Steerio Hearts
by LusciousNesha
Summary: Steven Evans killed a man at 16 and found himself in a mental institution, where he met someone who would change his life and he would change hers. Stevie/Cheerio Ship. Trigger warnings for institutions, mental illness, mental breaks, abuse, abuse of residents, racism, violence and the usual culprits of The Eye Series.
1. Just Another Dusty Record on the Shelf

_**Part One: Stereo Hearts**_

 **Just Another Dusty Record on the Shelf**

Cheerio got another shipment of notepads from her father. They had little pink bears on the front of them and flowers and butterflies on the corners of the pages. This initially began as something that he did for her when she was stressed and couldn't figure out what she wanted to say. He told her, just write it all down, even if it is incoherent and that way, if you really want to share it with me, you'll have already found the words…" But, he had never actually read a single thing that she had written on the pages of notepads and after she tried to commit suicide, these were her best friend.

He sent them in care packages with felt tip pens (the only pens that she was allowed to have) and other items deemed safe in the institution. They picked the baskets apart before ever giving them to her. That was fine. All she wanted were the notepads. She had chronicled and doodled her entire time in this place via notepads. She put a number in the corner of the cover and continued one wherever she left off. Someday, if she made it big or became important - someone could use these to look at who she was at this point. "Because, my life is still not yet over," she wrote on the front page of her newest notepad.

"He's gonna be coming here," she heard somebody say while watching TV and she turned around to see what they were talking about. There was that boy on TV, again. Steven Evans. He had killed a white pride motivational speaker/author/counselor and it must have finally been determined that he was criminally insane… Or whatever terminology that they used for that. He wasn't going to be tried as an adult, but, "Is he really gonna come here?" she asked the nurse at the desk.

"They're drawing up the paperwork, as we speak. They'll most likely have him here for assessment, then move him over to the dangerous criminals zone if he can't hack it with you calm kids."

"He looks very gentle," Cheerio said.

"Cheerio, I _forbid_ you to latch on to that boy. He's a white supremacist, sweetie. He's not for you, as a friend or anything else."

"But, he killed the other one, so maybe he's not. Even still… He's coming here to get fixed, right?"

"Honey - we rarely fix killers here. They're kinda just… stored here for everybody's safety."

"And the calm kids are stored here for our own safety… Or in my case, to keep my parents' from having to deal with my failures."

The nurse gave her a small smile, "If that was true, your daddy wouldn't send you these packages every couple of weeks."

"These packages are pocket change to my daddy. Do you know what my parents are worth? My mother is a fashion icon. My father is an entrepreneur. Both of them inherited companies. These baskets are as meaningful to them as sending me a pack of gum." She looked at the television again and told the nurse, "I am completely ignoring your forbiddance, by the way. Look at him. I'd lick the sweat off of that boy."

"I don't see it, Child. But, expect me to be blocking that, if God Himself doesn't." Cheerio laughed and took her notepads to her room. "You're leaving your other things!" the nurse called, but she was already in the zone.

.

Whenever Stevie was brought into the hospital, he was still in this weird, surreal trans mode. _What happened could not have possibly happened._ That would mean that Stacie was now motherless, that Mary was going to be buried, that his father was a widow, that Sam… was out there, with that girl, and living with his enemies… _That didn't really happen. None of it happened._ The nightmares seemed extremely real. He could feel his mother's body shaking in his arms. He could hear the moment that the gunshot hurt his ears. He recalled details of Sam and Dwight trying to collect him. But… there was no way that these were memories. These were nightmares. He was having nightmares again, like when he was a kid and these were simply recurring and more realistic. He was examined, asked a lot of questions about what happened. He dodged a lot of those questions.

"What happened after your mother was shot?"

"That didn't happen. Can I see her? She's not doing very well. She's very sad. My brother is mad at her and my dad is going to divorce her. She can't be dead, because she didn't have a chance to fix things."

"But, do you remember seeing her get shot?" He froze. He _did_ remember it, but it _couldn't_ have happened. Maybe, he was crazy. Maybe not taking his meds messed him up worse than he thought. "Steven, you held her in your arms. The police had to separate you to bring her in."

Tears fell down his cheeks and he shook his head. "That never happened. Um, I think I need my medicine back. I haven't taken it in a long time."

"We've given you the medicine that you're supposed to have. You can't remember that either?"

"You didn't. Because the medicine takes away my nightmares and I'm having them all of the time, even when I'm awake, now."

Now, he was being taken to a mental institution. They told him that he had been declared criminally insane and committed to an institution equipped to help him work through his breakdown.

But, Stevie had been on medication since he was 12, for his night terrors and nightmares, explosive anger, and incapacitating anxiety. A "break" for him was smashing his fist through his ex-girlfriend's car window, instead of her face, not… This. This was demolition. He got to the door of the institution and it occurred to him, for the first time - this _was_ real. He was honestly going to spend time locked up because of something that his mind had let him do. "Wait… If my mom is dead, I have to say goodbye to her," he said. He looked over at Stacie and Dwight. (They had decided that maybe seeing Sam might not be good for him, right now. It had been difficult to even get him to respond and when he did, he was in denial about what happened. His current state of mind, as they knew it was that Sam was a traitor and because of him, their family was in trouble.

Stacie was trying not to cry as she insisted, "It's gonna be okay, Steves, okay? We're gonna be here for you. These people, they're gon' help you."

"Stacie!" He screamed, trying to rush to her. She stepped forward, but the escorts grabbed Stevie, so Dwight pulled Stacie back. "NO! That's my sister! That's my sister! Stacie! Tell Mama I love her! Tell her I'm sorry!" He was crying and the escort was giving him a sedative. "I didn't tell my mama goodbye," Stevie told the escort, crying.

"It's okay, Kid. She knows you love her."

"She's dead, though," Stevie said. It was the first time, since the shooting that he had said it. "She's dead..."

He was calm enough for them to settle him in the quarters that they had for him. Stacie and Dwight were allowed to say a few last things to him, but his brain was foggy. He was just staring out of the window. Stacie asked if he could be set with the other kids, so that he wouldn't have to be alone. They left him at a table in the common room and she cried the whole way to her newest home, with Dwight fruitlessly trying to cheer her up.

.

Cheerio noticed that the new boy was drooling. His family was gone, so the guards were no longer concerned. He could sit there for hours without them giving him so much as a glance. She sighed and went to see about him. She just had her notepad and a red and white cheerleading headband in her hair. She used the headband to clean him up and told him, "There." She left it with him, even though she was sure that he wouldn't be well enough to wipe his mouth the next time, either. They must have really gave him a strong shot! He also had a pair of glasses tucked into his pocket, that she presumed were taken off of him whenever whatever happened for them to sedate him. She took them and put them on his face, "There's not really nothing to look at, but you already full of drugs. Your vision doesn't need to be any _more_ blurry."

She saw the nurse watching her and she left him alone, before she got in trouble.

When they brought him into his room, they dropped him on his bed and he was pretty much dead to the world. She sighed and crept into his room. "They kinda suck around here, sometimes. She fixed him on the bed to be more comfortable, and removed his glasses so that he wouldn't crush them while he slept.

An orderly passed by and called, "Hey! Cheerio! What are you doing in here?"

"Your job. You guys just dropped this kid on the bed like a load of heavy laundry that you're not about to even fold this week," she said.

"Get out of this room. You know that's against the rules."

"I was trying to help," she said and left the room, glaring at the orderly. He shut the door and locked it. Cheerio made her way to her own room and then noticed that she didn't have her notepad, "Hey… I think I dropped my notepad in Steven's room…"

"Tough. You can get it tomorrow, if he doesn't break your neck when you knock on his door."

She smiled, anxiously and asked, "Can you just go run in and get it for me? It's not that far."

"Princess, I know that your parents got a lot of money, but you're a ward, here. You aren't in charge."

"I feel like I asked nicely," and now, she was wringing her hands.

"My answer is no," he said and practically shoved her into her room before locking the door behind her. Cheerio sniffled and huffed. _How goddamned hard would it have been for him to just grab it for her? There was stuff about Steven INSIDE of that! What if he woke up and read it?_ She took a deep breath.

"It's okay. It's alright." She began to cry and climbed into bed crying. "It's okay. It's alright."

.

She barely slept. As soon as the doors were open, she rushed into Stevie's room and looked around for her notepad. He stared at her, blankly, but didn't say anything. She let out an excited cheer and rushed to the floor near his bed and snatched her notepad from the floor. Stevie looked around for his glasses and found them on the nightstand. He put them on to see a strange black girl with light skin and wavy hair hugging a notepad, next to his bed. _Was she real?_ He reached out and touched her and she gasped and he jumped and hurried out of the bed, then out of the room. _What the fuuu…?_ It took him a moment to realize what this unfamiliar setting was. He was in an institution. He had not imagined that. He had not imagined that girl, either. She must have been one of the crazy people…

The nurse saw him and said, "Whoa, there… Where are you trying to go, Mr. Evans?" He looked around. He had no idea. He just wanted to get away from that girl in his room, but now - he didn't know what the hell he was planning on doing.

Cheerio came walking from his room and the nurse pursed her lips and put a hand on her hips, "Cheerio, if you licked this boy, I swear, I'm throwing you in lockup."

Cheerio shook her head, "No, of course I didn't LICK him. I just went to get my notepad… And I _dropped it_ last night before lockup when the orderlies threw him in the bed and were gonna leave him there like a trash pile! Then Surette wouldn't get it for me, AND he shoved me. I actually want to file a complaint about this."

"You don't have anything to stand on. You're not supposed to be in other residents' rooms."

"So, Surette gets to push me?" Cheerio fussed. Stevie was still standing there, but when he saw a television; he went towards that. There were other teenagers here, but they all seemed to be in their own worlds. He sat near the television, still unsure if this was all real, if the stuff prior to it was real and how long he would have to wait to know that for sure.

He still heard that black girl's voice. She was annoyingly loud and he hadn't really processed what was said, but the room that he woke up in, the room that she rushed into… that was _his_ room and she was in it for some reason. _Who did she think she was, barging into his room?_ He fumed, but looked around to see if anyone was watching the education channel before switching it to the news.

After a while, she was in the doorway of the room and he was trying to ignore her. She was watching him and he couldn't tell if she was going to come over or not. He glared at her until she went on her way, then he returned his attention to the news.

Cheerio wrote in her notepad about her stressful night of being separated from her notepad, opting to talk to Steven later on. He was still trying to get used to the place. He did _not_ look happy.

She surfaced after a while and saw Steven sitting alone, and he looked a little bit dazed. She wandered over to him and asked, "Did you get sedated _again_?" He slowly turned to face her and even slower pointed towards her face and touched the tip of her nose. She blushed and smiled brightly. He semi smiled, too. He was _clearly_ sedated, but she didn't know if that was an accidental touch while trying to point to her and form a thought, or a purposeful bloop… so she catalogued it under purposeful bloop. _What was he gonna do? Fight her for thinking it?_ She went to the nurse's desk and said, "Sandy, they sedated Steven again, didn't they?"

"He got irate," the nurse said.

"I didn't hear anything," Cheerio said.

"Well, he didn't say anything. He just put Chase Madison in a headlock and cut off his circulation. I think Chase got too close to him and he reacted, but we had to get him off of the kid. It wasn't as strong a dosage as last night, so don't fret. You don't have to lose another headband today." Sandy gave her a look to let her know that she _had_ seen last night's interaction.

"Oh… Any chance that I can get that back? Because, I obviously can't go into his room and…" Sandy pulled the headband out from under the counter and slid it to her.

"He threw it in the trash earlier."

"Ingrates. Everyone here is so ungrateful for me."

"They don't deserve ya, Cheerio."

.

Stevie woke up for a second day in this place. He still hadn't spoken to anyone, caught on a pendulum of thinking that everyone was fake and this was an elaborate mental paracosm to deal with Mary's death, then realizing that this was real and just hating everything so much that there were no words that he could speak to express really anything. He was likely here for the rest of his life. He… killed Hank. But, Hank killed his mother. Kyle may have pulled the trigger, but Hank called the order. He began to cry and he heard the door unlock. He wished that he could lock it right back. He got up to see if he could… No such luck. They probably didn't want them trapping themselves and being able to harm themselves… But, wait… If they had a key, it should still… He tried it again and opened the door. Nope. He studied it for a moment and tried to see if he might be able to Jerry-rig some way to make it lockable from inside.

"Morning, Steven!" She cheered. He jumped at the sound of her voice and looked up at her. She was putting on lip gloss and she had that headband that he had found on him yesterday, in her hair. He should have known. He almost told her to beat it, but it occurred to him that the less he said, the less that he should have to deal with people. In fact, not only was he not going to respond to her; he wasn't saying anything to anybody. He turned back towards the lock and continued studying it. She… wasn't leaving. He looked at her again, this time, annoyed. _What the hell did she want?_ "Did you hear me say good morning to you?" She asked. _Actually, she said, "Morning," which always annoyed him. Say "Good morning" or skip it. Can't be bothered with one syllable added to your friendly greeting?_ He ignored her and went back into his room and shut the door. "They're gonna expect you to come have breakfast," she told him and went on her way.

At breakfast, she noticed that Surette had Steven grabbed kind of hard by the arm and flung him into a seat. "He should not be allowed to work with people!" She hissed to her breakfast buddies.

"That's no person. He's a monster," Chase said.

Cheerio touched his hand and said, "I think you just scared him. I told you. You can't hug everybody, especially not in here. Remember when you hugged Myron?"

Myron Muskovich shivered, thinking about the meltdown that caused.

Chase clarified, "I wasn't hugging him. I saw that he had your headband and I was gonna get it back for you!"

She placed her hand over her heart, "I gave it to him. He was drooling on day one. I think that they shot him up too much. Never ever try to do stuff for me, unless I ask; you know that. I would have felt so bad if something happened to you over me. We ALLLLLL know I ain't worth it."

Myron chimed in, "I don't know if any of us are…"

Dani came to the table and sat right on Chase's lap, "Hey - did anybody call dibs on newboy?"

"Cheerio," Chase and Myron both answered in unison.

Dani snarled and hurried to the seat next to Chase when she saw Surette heading their way. "Fuck me. Manhandle McGee is coming."

Surette asked, "Any reason that you were in Mr. Madison's lap, Dani?"

Dani circled her finger around her head, "You know I'm loopy, Surette. Thought it was the chair. In this moment of clarity, may I say… PLEASE shave the pornstache…"

The others laughed and Surette snatched up their trays. "Breakfast is over," he said. Myron shook his head, "I didn't get enough nutrients. My blood sugar will not be balanced, and my medication will not properly work!"

Cheerio fanned him with her notepad and asked, "Where is your inhaler?" Surette slammed Myron's tray back in front of him, dropping much of his food on the table and went to throw Cheerio and Chase's away.

Cheerio sighed and said, "I gotta watch my figure anyway."

Dani chuckled, "I don't know why. That boy will not want you. He's one of those Nazi people that have been making the news lately. His brother is that Free Nazi that was involved in some murders when we were little. Remember that?"

"I do. My parents were friends with them. I have been to that house before, before then, of course. To be honest, if they had lived, I can see my mommy pushing for a marriage between our families."

"Do all black people in Lima know each other?" Myron asked.

Cheerio threw him a look, then reminded herself, "He's a small boy. He don't know no better." She left the question unanswered. Chase leaned to Dani and wondered, "Are you getting breakfast, because I hardly ate anything and it's your fault that me and Cheri lost ours."

"How is it my fault? I didn't make you laugh."

"You did. That's the exact definition of making somebody laugh," Chase said.

Dani shook her head, "Even if I wanted to go grab a tray and give it to you, that's just gonna make Surette mad."

"He should _not_ be allowed to work with people!" Cheerio repeated.

Surette came to the table again and asked, "Didn't I tell you all that breakfast was over?" Dani, Cheerio and Chase got up and left Myron, looking timid and bothered about losing his company and having to finish eating alone. He had to get his inhaler so that the stress wouldn't push him over the edge.

.

The three of them went to the yard and knew Myron would find them later. Myron was the youngest person in their ward and Chase was the oldest. Chase's mind worked like a younger person's so he was put in this ward, despite his age. Technically, this wasn't a "teenager" ward, but most of the people here were teenagers, and they have meals, classes and social time together, so it was like being at camp with friends… Who are likely to have some sort of extreme issue, at any time..

This place had several different areas and people didn't always stay where they were initially signed. Just like Sandy said that Steven was probably going to be in the violent criminals area. They just called it "juvie ward," usually, but there was an adult division, too that they didn't discuss much, since none of them ever wound up there.

She, herself had began in the "suicide watch ward." She was a beauty queen and a cheerleader. She made the varsity team her freshman year. She had been in pageants since she was 6 months old. She had been in commercials and as an extra child in some television projects. She was more focused on her gymnastics and dance. Her mother got her some of the finest training that money could buy. She performed in a couple of movies. She competed and won gymnastics trophies and cheerleading was supposed to just be a fun thing to put on her transcript before going to performance arts college and hopefully going on to star in several dance series, like the Step Up movies… but like… better. She loved them or whatever, but that wasn't exactly what she wanted. She wanted Step Up routines with Antwone Fisher poignancy. She wanted a dance movie with a plot and actors and actresses that made you actually feel for Lil' Saint, not just doing dope dances for the little dude. She had high hopes and pipe dreams… And last year, she injured her knee and in her recovery depression (unable to do so many of the things that she loved, lost hope of it getting better and tried to kill herself.

She wrote a detailed note on why in one of her notepads. She wrote, "I know that you don't usually read these, but this is my suicide note!" on the front of the notepad, so it wouldn't be lost and she practically filled the pages up with why this was going to be a good thing for everyone, being sorry about hurting herself and hoping that her death would be a good thing for everyone.

What ended up happening was she fell unconscious trying to hang herself, her weight was too much for the holder, she crashed to the floor and made her temporary knee injury worse… and wound up in this place, where she was not allowed to own most things, because of the danger of them to herself. She had thought about suicide many times, but only tried once and failed. That honestly made her feel horrible, but now - she had no way to punish herself. That was likely why she took to Steven. He did not pay much attention to her. He didn't seem to like people very much and he gave her no sign that it was okay for her to speak to him or come near him. Myron told her that chasing after him was clearly her self harm manifesting itself in other ways. Her response was to go sit across from Steven at breakfast, the next day. She watched him sigh, but he didn't look up at her. She knew that he knew it was her. Who else would it be? Everyone else was already afraid of him.

"I was told that you would end up in the dangerous criminals ward, but it's been days and you're still here, so I think that they're gonna leave you here…" He began to stuff his food in his mouth, to hurry up and finish so that he wouldn't get any shit from that orderly that acted like a ballbusting cop. Then, he got up, took his tray and left the table.

"Stevie Evans - where are you going?" Surette _still_ asked him. Stevie showed him his fully eaten tray. "I asked where you're going, not to see your tray." Stevie stood silently for a while. "I know that you can talk. I've heard your voice, when you were first brought in here. And I know that you aren't having a psychological breakdown, so it's basically, you've decided that you're too good to answer me?" Stevie rolled his eyes and walked off. What was he going to do? This was an institution, not a goddamn prison… "Get to your room, Evans." Stevie tossed his tray at the stack and turned to do just that. That's what the hell he was going to do anyway. Surette followed him to the room and when they reached it told him, "Hey… Don't test me."

Stevie raised an eyebrow at him. He… hadn't been testing him. He looked at his name badge, for the first time. Bobby Surette. He studied his face. For a moment, he wondered if maybe he had been sent by them. But. he didn't seem familiar and he wasn't saying something to indicate that he was with the organization. Surette locked the door and went on his way.

.

Three months. That was the period of time that he gave himself to accept that this was real, to not kill anyone, and to actually start trying to do whatever it was that they thought putting him here would do. Until then, he wanted to be left alone and he remained silent. _If I don't kill anybody in three months, I will start talking._ He went to the juvie ward, not saying anything or responding to anyone. After a few weeks, he was sent back to T ward, where Cheerio and the others seemed very excited about him being there. He kept himself inside of his room. Whenever the doors would open, he would step out, show his face, maybe eat or something and make his way back to his room where he would stay, unless something happened. He had started getting letters from Stacie and they both cheered him up and made him sad. She was in a new school, a new home, and they were in Ohio, to be closer to him - living with Sam and that woman. Stacie really loved her. She said good things about her every letter. She folded them into little shapes and he could never get them back that way, instead straightening them against the door and setting them flat in his drawer.

The cheerleader pissed him off. She walked into the common room while he was watching the news - a story about the Saunders' family creating a foundation in Hank's name to lead and guide youths into the light - and she turned on something else. "You weren't watching that, were you?" She sat down in front of the television and he thought it was rude, but then again… He never spoke, so it wasn't like she would _expect_ him to answer. He rationalized for her. Then, she turned right around and fussed at the television for the entire 30 minutes of her show. He wasn't sure what infuriated him more: turning off his news, watching something terrible, or watching it and complaining about it, when she was the reason that they were watching it! He got up and stormed to the desk and gestured for a pen. Sandy stared at him. This particular nurse didn't like him. He was halfway convinced that she must have been a Jew, because she often didn't seem like she was going to help him.

"You can't have a pen," she informed him. "Or a pencil, or anything with a sharp point. But, you could ask Cheri if she will lend you one of her safe felt tip pens." He furrowed his eyebrows. _Who the fuck was Sharee?_ "Cheerio!" Sandy called. Cheerio looked up from the TV, saw Steven at the desk with Sandy and rushed over. Stevie frowned. _Cheerio is Sharee._ He simply walked away and heard Sandy say, "Guess he didn't need you."

She watched him have a visit with his family. Then, another, with more family. His group kept growing, then stayed steady at three blondes, one of them a pretty girl, about their age, the Free Nazi, and the guy she presumed must be his daddy, because he was old and sorta looked like his brother, if his brother was old.

Steven was different around them. Whenever they were there, he actually seemed sad. That was bizarre to her. She wrote it in her notepad. If she could see her family, that would make her so happy, but here he was, getting regular visits and it seemed to make his mood more melanchology than as was typical for him.

Cheerio wasn't really bothering him, but someone mentioned that she was depressed because it was the holidays and her family didn't love her enough to even send her a card. He glanced at her and could tell that she had just heard that said about her. Her eyes changed. They got darker and damp. He prepared to see an explosive show of emotions. It was more internal. It was disappointing.

That really cute girl Dani began talking to him, specifically, "The notepads, it's kinda like her therapy, kinda like her curse. One of these days, she'll be good enough to actually pull off a suicide and the things that she has written in those pages could make or break her rep, you know?" He looked confused. "She totally shit the bed when she tried to kill herself." Stevie's eyes widened and Cheerio's eyes wettened. "She tried to hang herself, but just cut off her circulation and landed… get this… on the knee that she hurt that she was killing herself over!" Dani laughed and snorted. Cheerio shed a couple of tears and wiped her face before Dani insisted, "You know I'm fuckin' with you. Nobody mess with my girlfriend. She's sad, now. Holidays got her crying and shit. Upset that she don't get a Robinson priced Thanksgiving, I bet! I'd be upset too!" She touched Stevie's arm and asked, "You ever seen her family's place? It's that BIIIIIIG white house with all the different pink flowers all around it looking like in Alice in Wonderland when they paint."

"Those were red."

"Pink. I passed by that place enough when my mom had to work as a maid in that neighborhood."

"My family has 16 pink flowers that are grown on the grounds and maintained by a landscaping professional. Alice in Wonderland, they are painting the roses red."

"16 pink flowers?"

"I picked them out. If I'm out by the time I turn 16, I'm going to have a Pink Flower Super Sweet 16."

"Ummm… You're not gonna be out by then. You're not any better than when you came," Dani reminded her. She moped, but the rest of group, she was as quiet as Stevie always was. He made note of it. It wasn't like her, but maybe it was the holidays getting to her.

When they left therapy, he watched her walk out by herself to the grass and sit down. That seemed a good place to collect your thoughts, despite the fact that shen Surette found her, he was gonna go ape shit. That might be funny, but then again - her life sounded like it sucked, Parents can't be bothered to let her know if they'll come to the stupid family dinner in the common room? Botched suicide attempt? Injured knee? As much as she seemed to love cheerleading? She needed that moment, he was sure of it.

.

Myron was hitting his inhaler pretty hard and Dani was sedated and still crying. Stevie walked up to them and Chase jumped at the sight of him, but then simply said, somewhat cautiously, "They're both a little upset. Our friend Cheerio, the very pretty cheerleader? She had to be rushed to the infirmary. She must have been saving her pills over the past few weeks or something and she took them all. They found her out on the grass, foaming at the mouth."

"No… She had choked on her own vomit!" Myron said and began crying.

Dani mumbled, "My fault.."

Stevie shrugged his shoulders. She _was_ kind of a dick to the girl, but they all were in an institution, Cheerio wasn't remarkable at communicating things tactfully at times, either. If anyone was to blame, it was probably him. He was a little bit less… off… than they were and he saw her there. He knew that she shouldn't be there and he did think for a moment that he ought to point her out to someone. But, he didn't. He frowned and wondered why he even cared so much? She didn't even care about herself, obviously! He marched off and went to watch the news, now that she wasn't going to bother him.

.

Whenever NUrse Sandy rolled Cheerio back into their ward, in a straight jacket, dazed and hollow-looking, Dani clutched Stevie's arm and then leaned on him to start crying. He shook her off and pushed her onto Chase. Myron went to Sandy and said in a quiet voice, "I held on to this for her," and handed over her notepad.

Sandy suggested, "Why don't you hold on to it for a little while longer for her. In fact, why don't you get all of her friends to write her some encouraging words, for when she comes back to us?" He nodded his head and gave Cheerio's body a hug. She didn't move, but a tear did fall down her cheek. "Come on, Cheri… We'll get you settled back into your bedroom, pretty girl."


	2. Blow Me Off & Play Me Like Everybody Els

**Blow Me Off & Play Me Like Everybody Else**

Myron, Dani and Chase wrote messages, drew little pictures, included song lyrics, talked about what happened on her favorite shows, and Myron apologized that they used so many pages of her notepad to do it - just in case she took this as disrespect, instead of encouragement. They found Stevie after classes… Because, he didn't take classes with them…

He noticed them whisper-arguing amongst each other before he looked over at them and Chase, shivering, came forward. Stevie held up a hand to pause him, waved him away, then beckoned Dani with the same hand. She was equal parts terrified and happy. She took the notepad from Myron and came over, "We were just writing notes to Cheerio, for when she's better and since you and her are… Since you… Since she… If you write something, I think that will be really good for her to see."

Stevie sighed and gestured writing. Myron handed Chase the felt tip pen and he brought it over. Stevie snatched it wrote: _Next time attack the person who hurt you instead of yourself,_ and handed the items back to Dani, before walking off.

Dani frowned and looked at the others, "Should… We leave that there?"

"Scared she'll attack you?" Chase asked and took the notepad from her.

Myron came to see what it said. He sighed. "Well… It's Cheri. It's not like she'll take the advice. It's… The thought that counts?"

.

When Thanksgiving rolled around, the doctor thought that it would be nice for Cheerio to be able to sit with friends and enjoy a holiday dinner, even though she didn't have family visiting. She even let her have her notepad. Cheerio sat with some of the residents that she didn't really know very much. Chase didn't have family, but he was in his room, afraid to have to face all of the strangers in the cafeteria. Dani didn't have family, either. Her family was alive, but she destroyed her mother's eye with a wrench when they were trying to get her here, so her family was distant from her, and she was keeping her distance since Cheerio began to regain her faculties. Myron's uncle was the director of the institution (one of the reasons that Myron was even there) and his family came regularly, and there were many of them there for the holidays.

Steven's family was there, of course. There was a black lady with them, this time. Steven was quiet. His sister was talking a lot. His daddy was talking, some. His brother was trying to talk to him, but she noticed that he would never reply to him. The other woman didn't say very much and she looked extremely nervous.

Cheerio began writing: _I think that Steven's family is forcing themselves onto him. They think that he wants them here, and maybe he does, but if he does - I do_ _ **not**_ _think that he has realized this little fact just yet. Whenever they are here, he is so much more tense and sad. It makes me sad for him. They don't get to see him everyday, so they probably think that this is just who he is, now. They don't know that the Steven that they see is one that is not usually with us everyday. This is the Steven that they bring with them, when they visit._

She drew a cracked heart with Steven + Family on it.

 _He wrote that message. He's the only person that it makes sense that wrote it. A lot of those people just scribbled or signed. My friends wrote messages, then they must have gotten him to write something. This is interesting… His advice to me was to hurt the people who hurt me, but I have a sneaky suspicion that in his head, the people who hurt him is his family… And yet, he's not hurting them._

 _He pretends to want to see them every week that he isn't in trouble. He agrees to letting them visit, even though when they visit, he is miserable with them. Even if he only sees them to make them have to see how unhappy he is, it has to be worse for him than for them. After visits, they get to go home and hold on to each other. He has to stay here, trapped with us. Even if he sees them because he actually loves them and he's just sad when they come because he knows that they hate seeing him this way… That would still technically be them hurting him. If my parents came, I would be happy, so nothing but team spirit and cheer! Nothing would be able to make me sad if my parents were here, especially for the holidays, when family should be together. So, I think… Either… His family doesn't love him (and that's what makes him sad) or he doesn't love them… Which kinda makes me sad. Because, why? What did they do to him?_

Whenever Steven got up to walk the Evans out, she got up and followed them. Nobody seemed to be paying attention to her, so she supposed that her suicide watch had ended. The black woman almost ran into something and Steven grabbed her shoulders to guide her around it, while the others weren't paying attention… _Hold up… Is she BLIND?_ Cheerio watched Steven hand her hand to his brother and turn around, right at the border and come back towards the building. _He didn't even hug them or say bye! He doesn't like them…_

He almost ran into her, because his head was down and when he looked up, she didn't move, but he paused right in front of her and looked startled to see her there. Steven looked around, clearly annoyed.

 _Where the fuck is her escort? She's not supposed to be by herself!_ He jerked his head back towards the cafeteria, walked around her and knew she was going to follow him back inside. He walked over to Nurse Sandy with his thumb pointed at Cheerio.

She smiled and said, "Well, Cheerio, you look full of spirit and energy. Can I get words out of you, today?"

"Happy Thanksgiving!" Cheerio said to Nurse Sandy and gave her a hug. They began to talk about what Sandy was going to do when she left work, and Stevie left them to it. Cheerio watched him leave, her eyes glazed over and whenever he was out of range, she leaned towards Sandy and whispered, "He was worried about me."

"Well, that is normal, Cheerio. You gave us all quite a scare and he probably thought that nobody was watching you. I saw you, the whole time."

"I knew you saw me!" She laughed, "He just showed me more care in thirty seconds than he did for the thirty minutes that his family was here…"

"Please, focus on yourself - getting better, feeling better. Don't attach it to him or your parents, or anything else."

"I'm okay. I was just feeling bad that day. Sometimes, kids feel bad and they do crazy things," Cheerio defended herself.

"I'm sure that you'll work through all of it in therapy," Sandy told her.

.

Stevie had homeschool courses that Nurse Bailey went over with him,but he usually just took the work, waved her off and tackled it himself. Every now and then, he had a question and was highly annoyed that he didn't have internet access in here. They had to have their phone calls in the doctor's office and sometimes could get online in the nurse's station, which was where he did his work, but at the little table where they did schedules, shifts, and medication and stuff. He raised his hand and Nurse Bailey came over to see him point to something in the book. She pulled out her phone and handed it to him, "Go ahead and use my Internet." _Of course._ She wasn't a smart person. Well, she was a nurse, so she had to know all of that stuff, but like… advanced high school courses that were not related to medical care, not so much. He wasn't sure how she got the grunt work of being the person to go over his lessons with him.

After "school," he was usually pretty annoyed. He wanted to get his diploma, but he also was majority positive that he was never going to be able to use it. If he got out of this place before being an old man, what was he even going to do? He had tarnished his place with the brotherhood. He was one of Schuester's branch and that entire group was released, if not some crawled to other leaders to beg to be allowed into their family… He couldn't do that. Not after Hank.

Hank Saunders was a white pride powerhouse. He was a genius. He made you feel everything that he said. He was like a god among mortals and even when he was berating you, you felt like it _had_ to be your fault and all you had to do was do better and be stronger, and he would give you a pinch of praise that would mean the world to you. _And you killed him._

Stevie brought one of the books that Stacie gave him on Thanksgiving to the common room to try to read and take his mind off of things. They had told him that since he seemed to be functional that he might be able to get his contact lenses back, but he honestly was more interested in being able to watch a movie that wasn't for children or a show that had more gritty content. Until then, Stacie promised that she would bring his books back to him. He had collected many of them that he didn't have the chance to read while he was building himself up in ranks.

He was certain that they had gotten rid of all of his belief system remains. Some of those things were irreplaceable, but he knew that with Hank being nationwide, he probably would never be able to access any of the circles that might have taken him in, anyway.

Cheerio was listening to a pop radio station. He hated that radio, almost as much as he hated her being around. She and the little boy would always turn on the same souple of stations… but they had the exact same music on both of them. There were no playlists, and they weren't allowed to have discs, because apparently whenever they _used to be able to,_ Pendleton broke one and tried to stab herself with the shards. CDs? Like… they were old, but the radio did have a CD player on it; and they couldn't use it because of course someone here found a way to make those dangerous.

Today, Cheerio was dancing by herself, near his table, and he was trying really hard to ignore her, even though he lowkey noticed that her booty was actually really cute. It was like… he could probably get a handful of cheek in each hand, but it wasn't overwhelming. She had a little white girl booty, but her movements weren't… she was able to do a lot of impressive work with only a little bit of… He tried really hard to just ignore her and read his Chuck Palahniuk. But, she _was_ bouncing it and even though there wasn't a lot there, it was enough to distract him…

"My heart's a stereo…" she sang loudly. _Was it even acceptable for her to make this kind of noise?_ He guessed that when they had a lady who literally HOWLED whenever she saw the moon, that loud singing was a mild annoyance, at best to most of the normies here, and not a consideration for most of the crazies. "OH! Steven - this can be our song! Because, it's called Stereo Hearts. You're Steven; I'm Cheerio… STEERIO!"

Stevie glared at the very idea of this. Today, he was thinking about his disgrace as a brother in white pride. He was thinking about whether Bailey was going to make hi because she wasn't able to explain tenants of his studies. He was thinking about… her adorable and squeezable looking booty, but that didn't mean anything. It wasn't like his medication made his hormones die and there weren't too many girls around! He almost said, "There is no our, because there is no us." But, he knew that if he said a word, he would never stop. He had a couple of months worth of grievances, specifically directed at her and she'd honestly probably just kill herself, which - yeah it'd be one less one of them alive, but it'd be the pretty one that he got to sometimes look at in a room full of troubling scenery.

She obviously was bad at social cues, too. Because, instead of taking what he knew had to be disgust on his face as a red flag, she opened her notepad and got closer to him. "I know that you don't care to talk, so you can communicate…" his brain was hurting at how tone deaf she was about everything that had happened up to this point. She was talking about how she didn't let people touch her notepads and he remembered her seeming very upset that her friends had written in it, but Myron pointed out that he had apologized in it and she felt better about it. But, then she said, "Since we have a special connection, I'll let you write in it."

 _Special connection? What. The. Fuck? WHAT would give her that idea?_ He felt like he spent a huge portion of his time, willfully avoiding and ignoring her, and that most of their eye contact was him glaring at her in contempt! He took the felt tip pen as she sat next to him and pushed in close to him, with her boobs pressing against his shoulder. He was suddenly aware that those were pretty nice, too. And… soft… And… he couldn't remember the last time that he'd spent time with a pair. He shook his head and flipped through the notepad. Their names were doodled throughout the borders of her entries, some of the pages full of hearts and shit… _Good God. There is a HUGE downside to not talking to anyone. Nobody knows who you are. They don't know what you take pride in. They don't know what you hate. They don't know what you think of them._

To explain all of this would be investing way more time than he was convinced some black girl deserved. _I don't like niggers._ He wrote it and put a period on the end. She had returned to performing the song in his direction when handed it back to her and got up to go to his room. He couldn't possibly handle any more of her tonight. He also lowkey needed to maybe masturbate, thinking about anybody _but_ her.

Cheerio read the note once, then twice, then at the third time, she ripped it from her notepad. She was willing to put up with a lot, but violating the sanctity of her notepad, which she trusted him with, with this type of language and this type of unprovoked rudeness towards her? When every word written about him was kind and non judgemental? When everyone thought he was awful, and she had given him a chance to be a good person? She wadded it up, threw it at him and took _his_ advice - _attack the people who hurt you_. "I'm not a nigger, you corny, flaky, dumbass!"

The paper bounced off of the back of his head and he turned around, really suddenly and honestly it was frightening. Up until this point, he had been quiet, if not a little bit high strung and defensive. But, he yelled with a stronger, deeper and meaner voice than she had imagined for him when she imagined what his voice might sound like. "You are to me!" Stevie took a moment to try to catch his breath, when he noticed that everyone - even the people who usually spent hours in their minds seemed to be staring at them. Dani and Chase were frozen in their spots. Myron looked concerned, but afraid to move forward and orderlies were approaching.

"Well, if I am, then I'm the most important one in your life, because I'm the first person that you've talked to since you got to this place!" Dani cackled and gave her a high five, suddenly brave again now. Stevie angrily stormed out, knowing that she had a point. She _did_ make him break, and he wasn't sure how he was going to do it, but he was gonna have to make her pay for it. Willing her to fall off of the couch and crack her skull open on the floor was not cutting it. And nobody was keeping her from climbing up on the couch and singing and convincing her friends to sing along to make it louder. Surette smirked at Stevie and Stevie was even _more_ angry. He wasn't going to masturbate, unless it was going to be to her bludgeoned face.

.

After furiously trying to work out some of his aggression through self gratification that her cute little parts kept interrupting, Stevie went to bed even more sexually frustrated and even more in contempt of that damned girl. He heard Surette tell him to get up several times before he was able to actually do it. He grabbed his glasses, put them on and held his head. It was hurting. Hopefully, they would give him something at the nurses' station…

He paused when he saw a small cereal box from the cafeteria on his nightstand. He picked it up and sat up, looking at it in confusion, for a moment. Corn Flakes. _You corny, flaky. Dumbass…_ Now, he was awake. Stevie grabbed the cereal and stormed towards her room. Apparently, Surette hadn't been hounding her for her to get up, because she was sleeping soundly, looking like a black Disney fucking princess, all peaceful and shit and her top showed half her boobs and they rose and fell with her breathing and he remembered how much she had ruined his night, and now she thought she was funny. He opened the box and poured the cereal all over her.

"What the hell?" She felt the empty box hit her in the face. She still wasn't all the way awake. "What the fuck is this shit?" She reached for the box and read it. "This is cornflakes? You _cerealed_ me? Oh, that is some flaky ass bull, Cornflake!" He was irritated by her calling him that, by her not being more mad or upset and then she reached in between her breasts to pick some out that somehow got in there and they jiggled when she did. She ate the cereal and smiled at him, unbothered by his declaration. Stevie just folded his arms and left the room.

Cheerio got up and dusted the cereal off of herself before heading to breakfast, herself, ready to tell her notepad about how much emotion she had stirred up in Steven today. But, this time, she called him "Cornflake". _Cornflake = Steven's new name._ Dani giggled when Cheerio sat down, "That went better than I thought."

"What did?"

"I left that cereal on his nightstand!" Dani whispered and cackled about it.

Cheerio laughed too. "I was so confused. I thought that he had come down here and just did it to get back at me! This makes more sense. He thought _I_ did it, probably."

Dani laughed, nodding her head. "I watched him stomp into your room and I was not expecting such a glorious turnout."

"Ummm… What if he would have hurt me, though?" Cheri wondered.

"He wouldn't have. I decided after you embarrassed him in front of everybody and he didn't do anything to you that you're likely safe. I think we were wrong about him. I totally think that you could get him to like you."

"Naw. He called me the N word. He can choke."

.

In therapy, Cheerio spent time with her usual friends, forgetting about the boy that she thought Steven was, before he opened his mouth and showed her who he was. He was now just Cornflake. He was a corny, flaky, _racist,_ present tense and didn't deserve the kind of chance that she had decided to give him. _Make better choices._ She had written to herself and tried to keep that goal. She had friends, so it was kind of easy for her. It didn't seem as easy for Cornflake. He seemed lonely. But, she wrote herself reminders: _He brought it on himself. He had the chance to be a good person and he chose to be mean._

It was almost Christmas by the time Stevie came to his three month hallmark without killing anyone, so he might as well keep his word to himself and begin talking.

It was a little bit unnerving to think about opening up to these people, but then again - he knew so much about them and none of them knew anything about him that they hadn't read in the news… if they even did that. Most of them didn't. So…

Whenever Dr. Susie Pepper (FUCKING DR. PEPPER) opened the floor for someone in group, he raised his hand, but kept his head low.

He heard whispers and shit. He felt all of the eyes on him, wondering if he was really going to say a thing. "Could I?" he asked and the murmurs in the room were like a loud chorus, but he didn't hear _her_ voice in it - not that he thought he could, but he thought that he should, if she had said anything. He had heard so much of her voice, and even though she stopped bothering him, he still heard her voice in the background of rooms, cheering her friends on and laughing with them. Today? Nothing. But then… He didn't see her, but then he _heard_ her say, "Shhhhh," softly to the others.

He took a deep breath. "When I was 8, I became interested in a white supremacist faction of the Greater Aryan Brotherhood Nation. My brother was in it. He went to prison for it, and to me - that was what I wanted to live my life for- the same thing that he lived his for. When I was 12, I became a part of their extensive training group. So, I was in a white supremacy organization as a ghost skin in training (which is basically a person who is fully committed to the destruction of other races and the uplifting of the white race as the only source of power and success in society, but pretending to be a regular person, to fit in and destroy the decay of diversity and equality from within the systems that were always intended for white people, mainly white men…"

He felt the anger and disgust and other stuff in the room. Some of these people had shared with him and opened up before him and for him to say this now, it was likely jarring. "I was going to be given missions, to kill people, to kidnap, intimidate, coerce, torture… I've done some of these things already. We started at 13, with hands on training. Because Jew boys were becoming men at that time - having ceremonies and observances to prove that _they_ were ready… We were soldiers. We had to be ready to begin being men, too, if we were going to challenge these people from taking over our world…" Myron got up and left the group. Stevie glanced at the door and said, "I'm just telling y'all what I was taught and where I come from…"

Myron said, "And I'm just distancing myself from these triggering tales of your Anti-semitism." He left the room and Dr. Pepper nodded her head at Stevie, that he could continue.

"Well, I guess I won't go too much more into detail. But, I eventually turned on my brethren, because my blood family was in danger, and I killed one of my leaders." He dared a look at Cheerio. Her hazel eyes were intensely focused on him and she looked so intrigued that it scared him. Usually, the " _I killed someone,"_ line was the nail in the coffin. People cringed or at least shrank away. In fact, everybody else was doing it, right now, even as he was processing those thoughts.

"Some people won't even lift a finger for their family. You're willing to kill for yours. That takes a special kind of person…" She said, softly.

Dr. Pepper suggested, "If someone has to defend themselves or people that they love, there are nuances to their responses. But, Steven isn't here because he defended his family. Steven, do you know why you're here?"

"Because, I snapped." He exhaled, thought about his mother's last words, and fought the urge to start crying. Cheerio was still watching him and he didn't want her to think that he was a punk, after all - not after that declaration about his character. He couldn't believe that she thought that… unless she meant a special kind of person, as in an especially terrible person? That didn't seem like the context, but, whatever - he didn't want to cry in front of _her._ At the moment, he was a little too vulnerable to care what that meant. He just knew he couldn't let it happen.

.

The slow walk back to their rooms, before lockdown, he could feel her eyes on him. _Do not look at her. You're already messed up tonight. She's just going to make some kind of face or gesture that ruins your night!_ He looked at her, anyway. Cheerio looked away, fought off a smile and blushed. This… was the first time that she exhibited any type of shyness, as far as he knew. Usually, she was bold and open. Even when she told him that they had a special connection, before whatever that was that she thought they had dissipated in the fumes of his anger and her amusement with his anger... But, since then, she was pretty good at leaving him alone and not paying any attention to him. Now, she was trying not to smile? And blushing? And he was… feeling some kind of way about it. This… was an adorable reaction. Not adorable like her cute little shaking booty when she danced, but like… he wanted her to smile for real, just so she wouldn't have to fight it and just to know that it was tied to him. He realized that he overused and misused "adorable" in the past. This was something to love - this shy side of her. She was gorgeous. She never had to feel shy a day in her life, if she decided not to. Nobody would _expect_ her to be insecure or bashful. He wouldn't expect her to be… this way... about _him._

Cheerio was actually super pretty, in the face. He didn't look at her face a lot. He'd _seen_ her many times, but he didn't look hard enough to see that she was… honestly… _Oh my God…_ She was so fucking pretty! Now, he was staring. She had to be this pretty the whole time, but he had just realized it. He spent so much time pushing her away and using her from a distance, to recall that not everybody here was totally gone.

But like… that thing that she did when she got excited about something and both of her eyebrows shot up and her eyes lit up, the open mouth, both rows of teeth smile that went with it, and the little cheery voice that she used for her loved ones when they had even the smallest of achievements… All of that shit was actually beautiful, and it was all just her - who she was. He saw her going to check on Myron. Stevie knew he upset the kid. He went to his room, upset about opening up, but sort of glad with how it turned out. He could maybe get some of the stuff addressed… about his mom and how he felt about that…

.

Dani sat by Stevie, first. Then, Chase came over. Myron and Cheerio showed up together. Stevie frowned at all of them. _Why are they here?_ Dani read his face and said, "Let me answer that question for you; you should have kept your fool mouth shut if you didn't want us here." She grabbed his roll off of his tray and handed him her milk. He looked confused at the transaction, though he already got her words. Chase gave her his roll and she gave him her fruit. Cheerio sat down, and threw her roll onto Dani's tray. Myron stuffed his roll into his mouth as he took his seat. Dani had a tray full of rolls and she slid Cheerio her salad. "Let me answer _that_ question - I don't like any of this stuff. I only like the rolls, and they will not give me four rolls for dinner. Supposed to have meat, veggies, whatever. I don't like it."

"I didn't want your milk," Stevie said.

"You didn't want your roll, either. It's always the last thing that you eat and it takes you forever, when you vacuum everything else up. You just eat the roll so that Surette doesn't ask you why you're wasting food," Cheerio told him.

"Stalk much?" Stevie asked.

"As a matter of fact, obviously!" She snapped.

Stevie put the additional milk in the center of the table, "Now, he'd be asking me why I have an undrank milk on my tray."

Dani took the milk back, "I thought that I was being fair. I did want my milk." She drank it in like a gulp. Cheerio broke half of her meat and handed it over to Myron. "His blood sugar," Dani said.

Stevie threw his hands up, "Look, you don't have to explain shit to me, I don't care what y'all eat." Cheerio rolled her eyes, but didn't comment as she gave Chase the rest of her meat. Stevie was actually curious, but had just been pretty vocal that he didn't care. But, at this point Cheerio had a plate full of salad, Dani had rolls, and the guys were the only ones eating properly. Whatever.

After a couple of nights of them sitting with him for dinner, Stevie rush ate and went to his room. He didn't want friends, and certainly not this group of friends. They seemed to take the hint. The next night, they went back to their usual table and left him in peace.

.

Stacie brought a gift basket with her for their Christmas visit. Sam and Mercedes were on the road, so it was just she and Dwight, this time. One of the orderlies took the basket to the nurses' station, as they had to check and make sure that everything in it was acceptable, even though Stacie had been in complete correspondence with them about it, she guessed better safe than sorry.

"You making any friends, Stevie?" Stacie wondered.

"In this place? Why would I?"

She took a swallow and chuckled a bit, "You might be here for a while. There's no need to isolate yourself."

"Some kids wanted to be friends, but I wasn't interested. I still don't think that I should be here."

Dwight asked, "Where do you think that you should be?"

"I know it's a stretch, since it's imaginary, but… I should probably be in hell." Stacie's eyes widened and watered, while Dwight tried to touch Stevie's hand. He pulled his hands into his lap and shook his head. "I just want to pay for what I've done. I'm not doing that here. I'm just… living. I'm living with what I saw happen to mom. I'm living with what I did after that. I'm living with that huge chunk of time that I lost between that and here. And, I think that I'd just rather die."

Stacie offered, "Well, I would be really sad if that's what happened. I think that this place will help you be better than you were before. It'll help you to be whoever you would have been if those people hadn't gotten ahold of you."

"Nobody _got ahold_ of me. Sam told me that I should do what I did, then suddenly told me not to and I was going to try to leave and then all of this shit happened. If anybody _got ahold_ of me, it was Sam."

"They got ahold of Sammy, too!" Stacie said.

"Okay," Stevie said and got up.

"Stevie…"

"Merry Christmas…" He left the visitation area and saw Dani, Cheerio and Myron sitting on the floor, in the hallway, outside of Chase's room. Myron's family had pressing social Hannukah events, Dani and Cheerio never had family and Chase was probably having anxiety attacks about all of the people who were allowed to just come into the institution to see their family members for holidays (or sedated because of them).

Stevie wanted to be away from his family, but he wasn't sure if he wanted to be alone with his thoughts. He sat down next to Dani, across from Cheerio and Myron, and none of them said anything. A little while later, Stacie set the approved gift basket by his feet and left with Dwight, not wanting to bother him. It was unwrapped, and he grabbed the book she put into it, slid it on the floor, and set it on the very inside of Chase's open door. Cheerio looked right at him and gave him the smile that he had seen her hand out plenty of times, by now - but not to him. "It's a Christmas miracle!" _And the cheer voice, to boot._

He passed a pack of gum that he had around and just said, "Shut up."


	3. If I Asked You to Scratch My Back

_Okay. I got the first few that I had written pushed out, but I have some ECSCN's outlined that I'll be working on, now. I'm trying to be all structured and ish with my time, when I'm not at work. And it's just about busy season for work, because Back to School is coming up and I do work in teacher supplies. Some of the more troubling storylines are underway. Old Stevie BS, to a certain degree - Old Cheerio BS. But, you're here for it; if you're here. Unless you're just one of those who hate me so much but clearly a fan, as you keep giving me hits to my page and stories. *Sips tea* Enjoy._

 **If I Asked You to Scratch My Back…**

The session was rough. He wasn't even sure how it happened but they wound up talking about his virginity loss, or as he had always thought of it, his introduction to manhood...Long story short, none of them believed that a 13 year old had the right to consent to sex with adult women and insisted that his glorious first time was actually sexual abuse. Dr. Pepper even said that he could not be rewarded for beginning training by sexual intercourse, because even if he had been of age; sexual favors in exchange for anything was illegal.

All that did was make him feel like he had MORE shit to unpack and it was getting old.

She caught up with him, "You know, you don't fool me one bit, Cornflake," she said.

"Yeah?" He asked. "Why would I waste my energy trying to fool anybody, much more importantly, why would I waste _any_ energy on _you_?"

She didn't miss a single beat, "You try to fool people into thinking that you're this horrible person that hates people and couldn't care less about anybody, but you're actually a kid who didn't feel like he was loved enough, so you tried to find love and acceptance somewhere and you snapped when you didn't. That doesn't make you a bad person. I know how that is…"

"Go to hell, Cheerio," he snapped and began to walk quicker.

"What did I do?" She asked, chasing after him, quickly.

"You think that my family didn't love me!" He fussed.

"Well – you think that your family didn't love you. I'm just returning the information that you've given us."

"I never ever said that," he said and spun around to face her, too quickly whereas, she bumped into him and he had to catch her from falling over. He held her for a moment, staring down at her, and they parted, quickly. He folded his arms and she looked at the ground.

"You didn't have to, Stevie," she said – calling him by his name for the first time in a while. She looked up at him again and said, "I see you. I understand. I was the same way. My parents kept putting me in pageants and I was a cheerleader, in parades, in dance, in gymnastics, and I felt like I had to do every one of those things perfectly, or they would never let me come home. When I hurt myself and my mom asked me, 'What am I going to do with you now?' I thought that she should kill me. My life was over… I tried to do it myself. Why did I do that? It just made them less pleased with me." She shook her head and said, "You aren't a bad person, Cornflake. You've just been waiting on somebody flawed enough to be able to see that and let you know it."

She reached out and touched his cheek and he let out a breath. He had no idea how true her words were, until she said them. But, the moment ended when some of the other boys saw them and weren't too pleased.

They started calling her names and she, of course, instead of just shutting the hell up and walking away, began to argue with them. Stevie pulled her by the wrist and began walking away from them, "Cheerio, you should know better than to entertain stupid niggers."

"Yeah – I'm gonna have to ask you to try to stop using that word, if we're gonna be friends, Cornflake."

"We aren't gonna be friends. I'm gonna say whatever I want, and it isn't like I was talking about you, this time. I'm talking about the fools behind us calling you a 'white man's whore,' and a 'house nigga.' Aren't they being really niggerish, right now?"

"You don't get to make that call," she snapped.

"I get to make whatever call I want," he argued.

"They are really acting like we aren't behind them right now…" One of them said, but Stevie and Cheerio barely paid them any attention, for their arguing about his using the N word, and whether or not the two of them were friends… They were arguing up until someone made a comment such as, "Hell her parents didn't want her, so she jumped on the first thing she saw…" Cheerio turned around and lunged at the boy.

At first, it happened so quickly that Stevie couldn't catch her, but once she was on that dude, she was trying to dig her fingernails into his eyeballs, and he punched her in her mouth to knock her off of him. That was when Stevie stepped in. He didn't know what the hell had gotten into him, but he did know that nobody was gonna put their hands on her… he was treating her like she was a regular girl, or something… no, actually, he was treating her like she was a _special_ girl.

He beat the hell out of that kid that put his hands on her and when they were separated, threatened him, "Don't you ever touch her or say anything about her, ever again, or I will _kill_ you!" Stevie's breath was hard to catch as he looked over at Cheerio, holding her mouth and watching everything with wide eyes. He stormed off, avoiding her for the next few days.

Seeing her face swollen was hard. He thought that he might get sent to juvie ward, but multiple witnesses said that he was just defending Cheerio and apparently nobody had seen Cheerio lung at that nigger, first. He winced when he used it, which was new. Knowing that she didn't want him using it at all - even if it wasn't at her must have done something to him. She was always fucking doing something to him!

.

The orderlies were not around, the kids were doing their active work. Stevie was working out whenever three of the boys from before advanced on him.

The coach rushed to go get help, while Cheerio rushed to go help Stevie. He held his own for a bit, but they knocked him down and kept kicking. It was like in a movie, at a prison! Nothing that she did stopped them. One of them, a big one, at that, shoved her hard to the ground and Stevie's eyes widened as he hit her right in the face. Stevie hurried to cover her and took most of the hits, mostly bodily, but some in the back of the head. He saw her face, touched it, wanted to get up and rage, but that would leave her unprotected. He couldn't do anything but take this whipping and he was ashamed of himself - that he had failed her.

When the boys took off, she cradled Stevie and asked, "Are you okay, Cornflake?"

"I will be. I'll be damned if I let cowards like that destroy me," he said.

"Let me get you some help…" She said and tried to move, but he held on tightly to her, not allowing her to go. He snuggled himself closer to her and just let her hold him. He would be fine. Right now, he just… really needed to be held. He couldn't remember the last time that something bad had happened and he was just held, afterwards. He had no idea why this need kicked in so greatly, now… but Cheerio's arms felt better than anything that he had felt in a long time, and he didn't want to leave them, even to have his current pain diminished. So, they were there until he was ready to let her help him up. When she did, she took his hand and they walked back towards their rooms.

He walked her to her door and she sadly asked, "Are you gonna be okay?"

"Yes!" He snapped at her. "I'll be fine. And next time, don't be so fucking stupid as to get involved. They could have stomped you into the ground!" she frowned, upset that he had gone back to snapping at her.

"I saw you getting beat up and I wanted to try to help you because you helped me out that night when I got into a fight."

"I don't need your help!" He hissed.

"Why are you being so damned mean all of a sudden?" She asked, pissed off, now.

"Because I can't stand you. I hate you and I want you to stay away from me!" He fussed.

"Fine," she said, with tears in her eyes and rushed into her room. Stevie rested his head against her doorway and sighed. There was an apology inside of him somewhere, but he couldn't conjure it up. This was for the best. He wasn't going to ever do anything but despise her, and there was no need for him to let situational occurrences trick him into believing anything else.

Stevie got up before the doors were unlocked and there was a letter on the floor, by the door on pink paper with hearts and butterflies on it. " _I'm sorry that I got you beat up. I was so upset because I know I'm not worth it. I hope that you don't hate me for making that happen to you. XOXO."_

He was anxious about lockdown ending, but as soon as it did, he rushed towards her room and was there by the time Bukowski opened up, looking confused at him about his eagerness. She came out, looking really sad, but brightened up when she saw him, then tried to play it down. "You got my note."

"It wasn't in the notepad."

"I have stationary too. I use it to write to my family." He wasn't even going to get into that discussion _, but she WROTE THEM? And they STILL don't show up? Know what, whatever._ "So, do you really hate me?"

He laughed, "Does it matter? I'm here." He saw the new bruise on the side of her face where that fucking animal hit her and he wanted to honestly create a path of rampage to hunt him down for it…

"Does that mean that you forgive me?"

"I can. On the condition that you hold me again.." Now, she smiled and wrapped her arms around him. His hands slid down and he cupped her butt into a couple of handfuls. She gasped and pulled back as he laughed.

"You fucking JERK! You're just playing with me, aren't you?" She groaned and slapped the wall, "Fuck you, Cornflake."

Her anger shocked him, to be honest. He thought that would be cute and playful, flirtatious and fun... "I was just trying to…"

"Kiss my ass!"

Once again, she was avoided. But, this time, she was hell bent on ignoring him. He watched her. He saw how hard it was for her not to come over, not to say something to him, do something, touch him. It made him silently smug, silently timid. Why the hell did they invest so much attention into each other? He hated her. He did, but he hated how alluring she was… how even though she was loud and obnoxious with that irritatingly chipper voice and unnecessarily jovial laugh… he still couldn't keep his distance.

They might not have been talking, but he couldn't force himself not to stare at her and when she looked back at him, when he should have looked away, he gazed at her until she did that irresistibly charming thing where she turned away, trying not to laugh, while blushing.

.

Dani rushed to the table, very loudly and said, "Cheerio! Have. You. Seen. The. New. Guy?"

Chase wondered, "Didn't she get the last guy?"

Dani waved a hand, "She released those dibs, remember? But _this guy…_ Your type, completely. Actually pretty, not like dirty redneck but cute butt pretty and TALL. Pretty much everything Steven is not and probably not a racist murderer, though he did seem very self absorbed." Whenever this guy walked in, Cheerio, Dani, Chase and Myron all stared.

"Brody Weston?" Cheerio said. "That is Brody Weston, the physical trainer on Dancing Pants!" She snatched her notepad and rushed over to him, "Hi!" He jumped at the sound of her voice, but then smiled at the sight of her.

"Hello?"

"I am Cheri Robinson. I just wanted to welcome you and tell you that I am a huge fan and I'm sad that you're here. What is… Why are you here?"

"Just needed to get some things inside of me straight. I don't think that I can have a great body until my mind has reached greatness first and lately, there's been so much going on in it that I want to do what's best for me and get healthy again. Why are you here?"

"A real reason. I tried to kill myself after a knee injury ruined my gymnastics chances."

"Cheri Robinson… Radja Robinson's daughter?"

"Yes!" She smiled.

"I thought her kid died. I must have gotten my facts wrong. Well… what happened with your knee? Maybe I can help you out or something, while I'm here?"

"I thought about getting another physical trainer, after I got here, but I was scared that if we worked and I didn't get better, I would be more depressed. But, if YOU are that person, I will gladly work hard and do whatever you say!"

.

Stevie watched Cheerio and some buff dude working out together and he was kinda… touching her… "Myron!" He called.

"Whatever you want, the answer is completely no," Myron said as he did his yoga stretches, alone.

"Who is that dude all over Cheerio?" Stevie asked, ignoring whatever that kid just said.

"Why?"

"Um, because he looks old, he seems to be touching her very inappropriately and she's kind of a mess. She can't handle sexual molestation nor sexual rejection."

"Well, not that it's any of your business… He wouldn't have to do much to get her, but also that is not the case, as that is her new physical trainer. Something something about if she doesn't try to get her knee better, she'll hate herself for not trying again… But, she didn't feel that way until he offered."

"But… isn't he a patient?"

"You mean resident, and like me, he's here of his own accord, so not really… you know… Like _you_. He can leave whenever he wants and is not actually locked up."

"Wait… You can leave whenever you want? Why would you _want_ to be here? You're like 12!"

Myron understood this to be rhetorical, as Stevie was never interested in a single fact about him and if he was, he would have known why he was here, because it had been discussed around him. Instead, he went straight to the response to the little dig at his age or size. "I am 14. I'm practically the same age as Cheerio."

"Cheerio is 14?"

"Well, she just turned 15 not too long ago, but… I mean… still."

"She JUST turned 15? When?"

"Around Valentine's Day. I'm unclear of exactly what day, because she pretended it wasn't happening. If your parents never showed up for anything, you'd probably try to forget your own birthday, too."

"That dude is touching her butt! When I touched her butt, she flipped out and stopped talking to me!"

"When you tricked her into hugging you to touch her butt? I wonder why she would feel a way about that?" Stevie shoved Myron with one hand and nearly knocked him down. "Never ask me for my help again, Thug!" Stevie turned towards him and Myron rushed off. But, Stevie wasn't going after him. He was… Pissed. _Who the fuck was that dude?_

.

Whenever Nurse Bailey gave him her phone for the Internet, he looked up Brody Weston. He was a physical trainer on a show that Stevie was sure that Cheerio watched. He seemed to be a ridiculous specimen. _Like, God… where the hell were his physical flaws? But wait, why was he here though? Did he have a breakdown? Exhaust from show work?_

" _Brody Weston checks himself into mental health facility for treatment for… SEXUAL ADDICTION?"_ Stevie erased the search history and gathered up his books.

"You're done?"

"Not like you actually help me anyway," he said on his way out… with her phone. She didn't even realize it. Cheerio was heading to hang out with Brody when Stevie caught her, "Well, well, well… What are you up to?" He asked. She glared at him. "Getting together with your new beau, the sex addict?" She sighed and rolled her eyes. "Did you know that's why he's here?"  
"I know that he's here because he wants to be a healthier person and being a sex addict is no worse than why you're here, so why are you talking to me?"

"Okay. You're going to play this game? You're going to act like you weren't always giving me signs that you wanted me? You even said we had a special connection. You gave me intense stares, almost kissing distanced chatter, and the privilege of being one of the very few people who could regularly write in your notepads… Were you bullshitting me?"

"Nope. I was bullshitting myself. Thinking that you were going to be someone other than the person that you were telling me that you were. I was wrong. I'm not too proud to admit this."

"Maybe you were. Or, maybe you were just happy to have someone new to sniff around like a bitch in heat?"

"Get away from me!" She yelled, at the top of her lungs.

He angrily did so, marching away until Nurse Bailey cut him off. "Evans! You still have my phone, Kid." He fumbled through his things and gave it back to her. Brody had went to check on Cheerio. She was all crying and he was all hugging her. _Fuck them._ Stevie spent hours crying angrily, and lying down pretending to be sick if he was bothered by someone.

When they had group, she sat next to Brody, flirting and openly calling him Sugar Smacks and honestly just being a real bitch and rubbing this Vitruvian Manwhore in Stevie's face. _Sugar Smacks? That's the nastiest cereal AND there isn't even a story behind it. Stupid._ "Does nobody care that this old dude and Cheerio are engaged in something clearly inappropriate? What the hell, Dr. Pepper?"

Brody quickly remarked, "There is nothing inappropriate about being affectionate with friends, Steven. In fact, you could stand to be more affectionate with whoever your friends are." _Stevie turned red._ "Hugs help with stress and bad moods. Kisses can be medicinal. Keep it appropriate and light hearted and there is no reason that everyone in this room can't give each other physical contact that makes us all feel special."

Dr. Pepper added on, "We try to encourage healthy interactions, however there are many patients who are not as receptive to affections, so I just ask that everyone make sure that they get consent before making any type of physical contact with anyone."

"Steven could use that advice, too," Cheerio said.

After group, he was walking behind them, and saw that they were holding hands and she was snuggled closely to him. He stormed right through them, breaking apart their contact without a glance at them. "Corny, flaky dumbass!"

"Go to nigger hell," he called over his shoulder.

"Crackers gonna crack! Your mom's a nigger!" She called out. Stevie froze and when he faced her, she stuck her tongue out at him. He stood for a long time, still, even let her walk past him, twisting her neck, before she grabbed Brody's hand again and kept walking with him.

The next day, when he found her, she was alone, under a tree, writing in her pad. She looked up at him, expectantly, but looked sad when she noticed it was him. He hated that. She used to light up and her smile would grow when she saw him. She used to look at him the way that Brody let her look at him. "My mom's dead," he said. She dropped her pad and her pen. "So, when you said that…" he shook his head, "Look, I won't ever call you a nigger again. I won't even say it around you. Please, don't ever talk about my mom again. I… I … almost choked you."

"I'm so sorry, Stevie," she said and crawled over to him to wrap her arms around him. He sighed into her hair, bit his lip and hugged her back. "I didn't even mean that. Hell, I don't know anything about your mom." She leaned back and looked at him.

"She was a bitch," he said.

"Don't say that," she told him.

"She was… but I don't want other people to say bad stuff about her."

She cupped his face and told him, "Well, whether you use the N word or not, you don't have to worry about me saying anything bad about her, again." Brody saw the two of them and stopped talking to her. She was devastated. Stevie was relieved. The guy was gone in a month, anyway. She did get another trainer, though. Might as well try to work on the knee while she worked on her mind.

The group didn't really like Stevie, so whenever she started hanging around him again, they started hanging around her less. They only seemed to hang when he was not around. They just didn't know when would be the next time that he would hurt her and they didn't like the fact that she was okay with this. Chase still wanted to be around them both. He enjoyed Stevie's Christmas present and saw Stevie as a cool kid. Myron couldn't stand him and Dani was on the fence… Did Cheerio _want him,_ or not - because she had released those dibs!

.

 _When they first began visiting, Cornflake wouldn't say much and only responded to the Sister. I don't know her name, so I'ma call her Susie Q. He became more responsive to them over the next few weeks, but it looked like still mostly to Susie Q. When he has a good day, he talks. When he has a bad day, he doesn't. He's been having some good days. We argue a lot. He is not a nice person. Not at all gentle, like I thought… But… He is only human, like the rest of us. Not one person in here is perfect. The Free Nazi is here today! So… I think I'm gonna shoot my shot and get an autograph._

"Bukowski, you KNOW they let me still come in here during visitations, because seeing happy families makes me less depressed and shit! Why you acting brand new?" she fussed with the orderly at the door.

Stevie winced at the sound of her voice. They had been arguing, almost nonstop since he broke up her thing with that old ass sex fiend, but they had been getting along. It was hard to describe. She still made him mad and he was very annoyed by many things about her, but also, it was kinda nice being around her. He wasn't sure what she would say or do with his family there. She might call herself "his girlfriend" or speak about their "special connection" or anything else crazy that he didn't feel like having to explain and knew "She's crazy," wouldn't quite work. It certainly wouldn't fool Stacie, if she saw him around her.

"Are you having trouble with that girl, Stevie?" Sam asked.

 _Shut the fuck up, Jesus. How much do you have to ignore somebody before they honestly leave you the fuck alone? Oughtta introduce him to Cheerio's bothersome ass. They're alike. They can get tea in the cafeteria or some shit. Paint each others fingernails while busy not ever fucking shutting up…_

"There's going to be a book and a movie about me!" He cheered. Stevie looked at him, accidentally giving away too much excitement. _A movie? About him? He gets movies while… Know what - whatever. This will go by faster if I just say stuff and send them off pleasantly…_

But then, Sam started talking about him getting out again. He was ALWAYS talking about him getting out. That was one of the many reasons that Stevie tried to ignore Sam. Stevie didn't want out. He was right where he needed to be, if he was ever going to get better. If he was going to become worthy of the life that he had left in him…

"I don't know. I kinda like it here. There aren't any huge demands on me. People don't expect me to be anything, one way or another. The other kids are nice," Stevie said. He jumped a little when Cheerio sat right next to him. She had that excited look in her eyes and she gave him a squinchy nosed smile and his mouth twitched, wanting to smile back. He felt like he was holding his own. Everybody but Mercedes saw that this girl had just done something to him with her arrival, even though he was acting annoyed as he chastised, "I'm with my family."

"So?" She asked and laughed at how red he turned. _So... they'll think that there is "something' between us and I'll EITHER be looked at like a hypocrite, a weakling, a real crazy person, or an asshole, and I hate you so fucking much right now! Just leave the table and I will definitely see you after they're gone._ She kept talking, though. That's what happens when you don't ACTUALLY tell somebody to leave. "You know that I'll be snatched up in a few seconds, anyway," she said, nonchalantly.

"Sedated," he said. _Like he needed that. After his family left, he wanted her to just chill with him in the common room and to bother her while her stupid shows were on. That brought him satisfaction, because it was one of the few ways, aside from fucking with her notepads (which generally was more drama than it was worth), that he could upset her. Now, she was gonna be all drooling and the rest of them were gonna act like they had no direction without her._

"Yeah, sedated!" She said, then looked at the others and asked Sam, "Can I have your autograph?" Sam raised an eyebrow. "Cornflake told me that you brought down a big group of hateful honkeys!" She cheered.

"Cheerio!" Stevie snapped, mortified. _She can't say that in front of my dad!_ Stacie laughed, but covered her mouth. _This is Stevie's gal. Gotta be. I know my twin like I know myself. Just his eyes alone is the tell..._

"No, no, no, no… you owe me one, Cornflake. You used the n word last Tuesday. I wrote it in my notes, right next to where your brother's going to sign my pad." She shoved a notepad and a pen to Sam and said, "We watched you on the news. Why are you so much hotter than Cornflake?" Stevie snatched her notepad and her pen and threw it across the room, which made her squeal. He immediately regretted it, but it was reactive. _Why would she say some shit like that in front of him? But also, he probably shouldn't have done that to her…_ She fumed and glared at him. "God, for somebody that hates me, you sure always get jealous when I pay somebody else some attention!" She fussed and shoved his head. He was embarrassed that his family saw that, but more upset that they were fighting again, and that was a major offense. The notepads.

"Cheerio!" Bukowski called, finally reaching her with a needle.

"No, no… My notepad. Cornflake, make sure you get my pad, Man!" She said as Bukowski gave her the shot, through her struggle and Surette helped to carry her out. Stevie felt guilty. She hated being sedated, and even though she might have been sedated anyway, he knew that her outburst at a family table was likely the last straw for those guys. Now, she was going to be all drooling, and he was going to be mopey. He was already depressed, just from the guilt that his anger made her get punished. He got up and retrieved the notepad he had thrown. He sat down and looked out of the window again, even more distant than before.

He heard Sam ask in a low voice… "Should I still sign it?" Stevie opened it to the page. _Cornflake just said the N word in a regular ass conversation without skipping a beat! Every time I think he's okay, he reminds me that he really does hate me. Just stuck in this place with us. The only reason that he bothers, probably. Wtf else is he gonna do? We don't have an Aryan Brotherhood here. * She drew a line*_

 _Free Nazi's Autograph:_

Stevie slammed it in front of Sam. Sam cleared his throat and whispered, "Can I have the…" He tossed the pen across the table and Sam exhaled.

Dwight remembered thinking Stevie had "niggerlovin' tendencies" when he was younger. He and Mary had worried that HE was gonna bring one home someday, if not Stacie, God forbid.

He was always ogling Stacie's little friends(most of them were pretty little black girls, and as he brought up recently, got a pretty bad beating from Dwight for admitting to liking one of them. He'd probably never admit to liking another one, even though he must realize by now that Dwight was over that particular abhorable behavior; but just to test out his reaction, Dwight asked, "Is that one of your friends?"

"I hate her," Stevie said, turning redder, as he did. _That's what she thinks. Like, if I hated you, why the hell did I just make an ass of myself in front of my family. And why did I get your stupid notepad for you? Everytime I think she's okay, she reminds me that she's a fucking idiot..._

Mercedes was really uncomfortable whenever they brought her in here. Honestly, Stevie felt bad for her, at this point. Why was his family like this? Bring someone inside… whose been inside? And just think it's gonna be okay for her? "It's not so bad in here. I like it," he tried to make her feel a little bit better, at least.

"You like that girl, Cheerio?" Stacie picked at him, asking the important questions, because they all knew what the hell Dwight was trying to find out. This. _I knew she would do this._ The window became interesting again. NO way was Stacie taking a deeper look into his eyes. _Fuck that._

"I hate her," he repeated. While they talked about things and sort of naturally had a conversation around him, he was writing in Cheerio's notepad. _I feel like shit for doing that to you. I didn't like it when you said something nice about my brother and I didn't like seeing you fawn over him. I don't like it when you flirt with other dudes and I don't like my brother, so I guess I overreacted. He still signed, right next to your completely stupid message. I don't hate you, you fucking idiot. I think I love you…_ Stevie looked up to see Sam smiling at him and wasn't sure if he could see what he had written. At any rate… He didn't want Cheerio to see it either and he ripped that part of the page off and wrote in the margin. _Hating you would be a waste of energy. But… We're friends, I think. I don't know. Who cares? Like you said - We're stuck._

After the goodbye hugs, Stevie went back inside of the building. He didn't see Cheerio's friends. Maybe they had already gone to their rooms or were dodging visitors or whatever. But, she was laying in bed, once again - so peaceful and beautiful. He put her notepad and pen on the nightstand, right by a photo of her and he guessed her parents and grandparents. He picked it up and looked at it. She looked really happy there. They looked like normal people, and yet the most that she saw of them was this photograph. He set it down and sat on the foot of the bed. She mumbled some stuff and he turned to see her trying to point to the nightstand. He picked up the photo and that wasn't it. Her pad. He gave it to her and she fell asleep. He stayed there until he was run out and fussed at for violating the rules.

.

Cheerio got up, groggy and instead of heading to breakfast, went into the bathroom and opened up her notepad. _Sam's autograph! "When I was your age, I lost my mind and my freedom too. If I could get out of the place I was, y'all can too. Good luck and take care of this knucklehead friend of yours." Then an unreadable signature._ She tucked it away, washed up and got dressed and then went to the common room. Now… she actually was going to write in her notepad, maybe have a little breakfast, go talk to Sandy about her recently acquired autograph and whatever… But, she noticed something. She read Stevie's message. Typical him to try to be mean and nice at the same time, but he had torn off something. First she presumed that it was probably torn off to collect gum he spit out or something. Sometimes, he did things like that to irritate her when he felt that she was being annoying. But, it looked like there had been something written there.

She went back to her room and got her crayons, found a pink one and lightly colored over the blank page. It was practically unreadable, because felt tip pens didn't really leave an impression, but he was probably so flustered when he wrote it that it left a bit of a trace. She held it up to the window for better view. _I think I love you._ "Cheerio!" She jumped and put her notepad behind her back. It was the whole crew - even Stevie. Probably checking to see how she was, without saying it, because he couldn't. Not right now. Maybe, in the future - if these feelings stuck around. She met up with them at the door, and made eye contact with Stevie. He didn't know what that look in her face was, but… he knew that he liked it.


	4. Could You Manage That?

**Could You Manage That?**

Cheerio put on her ballet clothes for physical therapy this day. A leotard, tights, a thigh length wrap skirt, dance slippers, and she tied her hair up in a bun and dolled up her face. No matter what she was about to do, she was always in the habit of prettying herself up first.

She and Myron walked together,while Stevie and Dani lagged behind. Stevie lagged behind to watch Cheerio, without being too obvious. Dani did so because she hated P.E. While Myron and Cheerio began their yoga stretches, Dani looked around to see how easy skipping would be.

Stevie grabbed a baseball mitt and asked, "You want to catch for me?"

"Ew. No. I want to not do any of this. I hate P.E." The orderlies were everywhere, "But, since for whatever reason, we have guards galore; I suppose I don't have much choice."

"You're the only person besides me that sees them as guards."

"Yeah, that's because both of us should probably be in juvie ward, and yet, here we are, living it up with the innocents," Dani said, putting on her mitt. "It feels like lockup, because it IS lockup, for people like us. That's why I'm at this one. The other places that I've been to, you don't even have locks on the doors. They just let you come and go as you please, or stay in your room and somebody just makes rounds to check on you. My family sent me here, after the last incident, _because_ of the archaic system."

"Wait… Other places don't lock the doors to your rooms? How do they keep you from running around in the middle of the night and stuff?"

"Chemical restraints, if you're in the condition to run around; but for the most part, most places allow you to have your own sleep schedule, permitting it doesn't interfere with therapy, medication times or activities. And the only doors they lock are restricted areas, but never the residents' spaces. This is one of those places that is slowly progressing towards treating residents with more dignity, but it's honestly the worst place that I've ever been in."

"How many places have you been in?" he asked, genuinely interested.

"Three, since I was 7."

"Aren't you like… 17?"

"YEP! I'm up for release in a few months!" They began to throw the baseball back and forth. "I'm scared, though. What if I go out there and can't learn the world enough to live in it? What if I'm like Chase, and just decide that I can't live out there, where all of the people are? I won't be able to afford to live here. I would have to by default, try to kill myself or harm someone every time I might be released, in order to secure my spot and that seems draining."Stevie looked over at Cheerio and the ball nearly hit him in the face. "Watch out!" Dani squealed, right in time enough for him to reach up and catch it, not even looking at it. She was impressed by that, but even more curious about what must have had his attention that he didn't turn away from it. _Cheerio._

Myron had been helping her work on her Janet Jackson inspired dance/cheer routine - which she apparently decided that she would eventually use to try out for cheerleading, whenever she was back in the real world.

Nobody ever doubted that _she_ would leave at some point, in fact, remembering that possibility was what made Stevie turn his attention back to Dani and resume the catch session. "I never have to worry about any of that. I killed somebody."

"As a minor, though. A mentally incapable minor, who is white and a cute boy. With a good enough lawyer and good enough behavior, you _can_ leave this place by the time you're 18, or AT LEAST in a short matter of years. You don't want too much time to pass. The way that people talk about technology when they come in - it is like always switching up and stuff, and like everybody has access. You'll get out and be like a fish out of water. Myron has been petitioning his uncle to let this become one of those places where they hold cell phones for us and give us accessible hours. Some places do that, too."

"You were telling me before that her family is loaded. Why is Cheerio in a place like this, if there are places like that?" Stevie wondered.

"She's never told me, but if I had to guess - I'd say because it's easier to leave somebody here abandoned. They watch you more than necessary, you get minimal mobility, no phones, mail is slow, visitations are not very private, phone calls are monitored, when you _can_ get one. If you want to dump someone here and never speak to them until you're ready, this place is perfect. Her family could afford the best mental healthcare available, not just in this city or state, but very likely in the country. The only reason that they would send her here instead, to me, would only have to be that they don't care if she gets better, they just want her out of their way." Stevie looked at Cheerio again, sadly. She was cheerful and hugging Myron for his help with today's choreography, before her physical trainer started their session. Dani went on to say, "Not enough people know Radja Robinson to stalk her home life, but if they had put Cheerio in one of those fancy, even secretive places, paparazzi sometimes checks in on those places to see if there are famous people there, and while the woman is rich and famous, she's not an actress or a singer, so a lot of mainstream consumers don't know her, but they MIGHT if she had a daughter who faced a tragedy. Like that little girl that got killed, that they keep on reverting back to every few years in the news. Like… Who cared about child beauty queens before that? Or even since that, up until these weird new reality shows?"

Stevie was ready to tune Dani out. She often had valuable information about Cheerio, so he did talk to her sometimes, but she also had tons of other not so valuable information and once someone paid her a spot of attention, she went forward with everything in her database.

.

At group, Dr. Susie Pepper had them to break into partnerships for a roleplaying exercise. Cheerio was on her way to move to Dani when Stevie turned her chair around to face him. She squealed, and then laughed, "You wanna be _my_ partner?" Dani asked, excited as she smiled at him. Stevie glanced at a crestfallen Cheerio and tried not to smirk, as he nodded and shrugged his shoulders to Dani. Dani looked at Cheerio and wondered, "Is that okay?"

Cheerio reminded her, "I dropped dibs. You can do whatever you want with him," making certain that he heard her, even though she was embarrassed by the fact that she didn't have a partner, until Pepper got someone to get with her.

At the end of the exercise, they did a recap of the group experience, but Cheerio passed, not feeling like talking, now. Stevie had to control himself in order not to look over at her. He could tell from her voice that he had made her sad, but she was going to get out one day, even if her parents didn't want her. He and Dani were never gonna belong to the functional space outside of those walls. It was better that she got used to less access to them, now.

Following the group session, Dani caught up with Cheerio, but Stevie grabbed Dani's arm gently and pulled her back a little to continue conversation. He noticed Cheerio notice that gesture, even if Dani didn't seem to. They were chatting so much that when Cheerio went into her room and shut the door, it was the first time that Dani noticed that she hadn't been involved in the conversation.

The next few days were quality time with the notepad days.

 _SO, okay - alright. I said that she could do whatever she wanted with him but I meant if they trying to bone or something, they ought to go for it. How could she pick him as her partner, over me? As long as we've been friends? And, let's be honest - he only did that to get to me. But, if I tell her that, then I'll look like a hater. So, now I gotta figure out if I let my friend get played silly by a silly boy that I know plays silly games, or if I step to her correct and risk her thinking I'm jealous or even getting mad at me for telling her the truth._

.

Cheerio decided to eat breakfast alone. Whenever Dani headed her way, Stevie rerouted her. "I don't think she's in the mood for company," he said. That perplexed Dani. Cheerio was _always_ in the mood for company. She thrived off of attention and support.

But, Stevie did know her pretty well these days, so she left her be and waved Chase and Myron over to her and Stevie when she spotted them, passing on the same information, "Cheerio doesn't want to be bothered today." Coming from Dani, they didn't question it, just hoped that she would feel better and Chase vowed to keep an eye on her, in case she got "give up sad."

Stevie caught her, when nobody else was around and asked, "How do you feel?"

She turned on him so quickly that she made her knee pop and she stifled a groan, pretended it was fine, and gave him a smile, "Having a pain in my knee, but I'll manage." Stevie kneeled down by her knee and messed with it. "Stop," she said, pulling her knee away.

"I was gonna try to check to see if it was okay, or if you might need help to the nurse."

"What difference is that to you?" she asked.

"Well, if your knee is hurting and that's the reason you're in here, nobody wants you to get give up sad. Chase and Dani would lose it and Myron wouldn't be that far behind."

"Well, you'd be fine, and we both know that's all that matters," she said and walked off, slightly limping, but glad that it didn't completely take her down, because that would have been so embarrassing and killed the effect of her 'Boy, fuck you,' exit.

Stevie watched her limp off and wanted to go force her to see the nurse. If her leg was hurting, that could trigger her thoughts about the injury and well… He was definitely trying to get her out of his system, but not trying to get her to have a relapse.

The next day, she had on a knee brace and didn't look as cute as she dressed for her workout, but she was mostly going to be working on toning and muscle building. She put on a pair of stretch shorts, a sports bra, and tank top, tied her hair up in a bushy ponytail and went to train by herself until her trainer arrived. Myron went to see if she wanted to work out with him, but she politely brushed him off. She didn't want any distractions on today and honestly, was still fuming that he and Chase left her by herself to chill with Dani and CORNFLAKE - of all people. It wasn't like she could know why, because nobody told her and she didn't ask. She hated rejection, though, so her main concern needed to be focused on making sure that she could still work with her knee being disagreeable, and getting back to her peak, because she wanted nothing more at that moment than to leave this place and all the people inside of it!

She approached the nurses' station and demanded, "When are we getting our equipment upgraded for the gym?"

Nurse Bailey frowned, while Sandy came to the counter and asked, "Cheri, do you need to have a seat to think about the way you're speaking to us?"

"No! I'm not five! I don't need a timeout! I need for you to put the equipment in the gym that we need!"

Sandy sighed and came out of the nurse's station, "Let's walk." Cheerio fumed, and jerked away from her when she placed a hand on her. "What's wrong, Cheri?"

"I need equipment. Dr. Pepper and the Director said that they would be trying to get the things that I will need for my therapy into this facility, and I'll bet they haven't even moved a finger to do it!" She practically yelled. "I need to get my training and get back to the cheerleading squad!" she yelled.

"I will have to give you chemical restraints, if you don't calm down…" Sandy warned.

Cheerio stormed off and Dani followed her, confused. "Cheerio? Are you okay?" When Cheerio turned and looked at her, there was fire in her eyes. "Are you ever going to tell us what's wrong?"

"Am I going to tell you what's wrong with what, Dani? That you decide among yourselves that I shouldn't be friends with Cornflake, so whenever I was with him you made me feel bad, only for you to all turn around and go hang out with him yourselves and leave me out of it?"

"You didn't want to be bothered," Dani suggested in a low voice. "We were just giving you your space and trying to get Stevie to tell us what he did to upset you this time…"

Stevie walked into the area too, now, as Dani was tearing up and he touched her shoulder, "Hey, you okay?"

Cheri let out a shrill grunt, "You do not care whether or not she's okay! You're just being extra nice to her to try to make me feel bad!" Dani started crying. "I'm sorry, Dani…" Dani shook her head and ran off.

Stevie shook his head too, "She's been really missing you. What kind of a shitty friend are you to make her feel like that?" She stared at him, trying to figure out if he was being genuine and she had just made a huge mistake, but the corners of his lips curled and he looked at his shoes.

"Are you laughing?" She asked. "You're amused by this? Stirring up trouble between me and my friends?"

He looked back up, not smiling, but still seemingly amused, "Your friends took all of 15 seconds to decide not to even check on you, just because I said to leave you to yourself. Unlike you, they only care about what they're directed to care about. It didn't take anything to get them away from you. How is that friendship?"

"How is _this_ friendship?" She asked.

"It's not."

She angrily opened her notepad, " _We're friends, I think._ _I don't know. Who cares? Like you said - We're stuck._ \- So, what you're now telling me is that you don't think we're friends and that your I don't know is now a no, we are not? Just tell me what you want and I'd go along with that, but don't keep taking me around in these circles. I can't handle it, and I don't _deserve_ it!" She threw the notepad into the bed, folded her arms and waited for his response.

"We haven't gotten to the point that I can confidently say that we're friends, so no - it's not a friendship, not now. And, no - I'm not sure if it ever will be, so it's not that I'm taking you around in circles, I just never know what to do next. And more importantly, what is the point? Myron's uncle is talking about upgrading the gym, on your request, because you want to do your physical therapy, get your knee back in order and go on to be a dancing, cheerleading, gymnast, who will likely be out of here by the time you turn 16, if not sooner. You'll go to high school, have the richest, most popular friends, probably some fucking star athlete boyfriend who could easily get a scholarship, but doesn't, because his parents are so loaded that he doesn't need one, and he only plays because it looks good on his transcript. In all actuality, the dude is most likely going to go to an ivy league school, join his father's frat, and whenever he graduates, go into the family business, build an empire, or get a sweet, sweet placement from multiple references from the fraternity alumni!"

She watched him for a while, in total confusion, then laughed out loud and shook her head, "Do you know what you sound like right now? You are jealous of a hypothetical person that you just made up, just now, and I might not even meet, in the event that I get out, which I also might not even do!"

"He's hypothetical, but you _know_ that he's real and you know that's what you want, and even if you don't, you're so desperate for your family's approval, that you'd bring him home, anyway. And the peasants that you got dropped into Ohio's shittiest nuthouse with will just be a memory that translates like a bad dream, from a time when you weren't yourself and hit rock bottom."

"You don't know anything about me?"

"If you met me out there, would you have even noticed that I was alive, much less fawn over me and pursue me? Be honest and realistic. You and your friends would have called me trailer trash and giggled every time one of you even so much as glanced my way. Probably would have hooked up with somebody like me, here and there - rich girls have needs to. But, there is no way that you'd ever so much as ask me what time it is, if you were out there."

"YOU WOULD HAVE BEEN READY TO MURDER ME! What the fuck difference does it make who we were out there?"

"The difference it makes is that while you're preparing to go back out there and excited about that possibility, people like me and Dani are terrified. We don't have the money to assimilate back into normie culture. We don't have talents and gifts that people will be excited to see if we were able to get back. You're preparing yourself to go back to being Cheri Robinson… Daughter of Rhadja Robinson and a motherfucker who has been called "Champ" his entire life, simply because he can't lose at anything. Why should we try to be friends? Why should we waste each other's time like that? I'd rather us not put all that thought and effort into what we are or aren't, live life from day to day and be able to move on whenever you move out."

Her lip was quivering, listening to his thoughts on this. Clearly, he had thought it out and decided. He even had a point. But, as long as everybody was here, what was the point in not being friends? What was the point in not enjoying whatever time that they did have together? "I'm more likely to finally succeed at killing myself for not having any friends than I am likely to get out of here; and I'm even less likely to be able to do what I used to be able to do. As far as my parents go, they obviously have more important things to do with their time than think about me, so I don't foresee them rushing to help me get back to status or even wanting me back at home. Like… I guess I get what you're saying and I can't do shit but respect your wishes. But, you'll have to respect mine, too. I don't want this halfass shit with you. If we're not friends, we're not anything. And if we're not anything, you don't get to wonder how I am feeling or come to talk to me about anything. If we're not friends, you don't get to be concerned, or be nice, or even approach me. I don't have the mental and emotional strength for it. So, I'll mind my business and you mind yours, if you've made the decision not to be my friend."

"I clearly said that I haven't made that decision and told you why."

"Well, your reasons why you haven't made the decision sounded just like reasons that the decision is indeed made. If you feel that way, go and be free, Dude." She sat on the bed and reached for her notepad.

"Are you gonna be alright?" He asked.

"I'll talk to my friends about it, if I'm not." She didn't look at him again, as she opened her notepad and began to angrily draw cuss words.

.

The Director _finally_ got word back from the Robinsons on Cheri's request and donated all of the equipment that she would need for her physical training, as well as a substantial generosity offering for other resources for the building. That cheered her up a great deal - that they would help. It gave her hope about both her training and about her family's care for her. Even if it was through rose colored glasses - the outlook seemed pretty good.

More cheer came in the form of Myron, Chase and Dani deciding to sit with her at breakfast the next day. Dani offered, "Cornflake told us what happened. That you two aren't friends anymore, so there's not a reason for us to be around him anymore. We only tried to like him because we knew he was important to you. I hope that you didn't think that we liked him more or anything."

"Do you all think that I'm conceited?" Cheerio wondered.

Myron looked shocked at the question, "Honey - you have to love yourself to be conceited, so no."

"I think you're very privileged and sometimes unaware of things, but I've never considered it a fault against you. I just considered it a part of you, like saying the wrong stupid thing is a part of me," Dani said. Cheerio sighed. Dani just asked, "Where is this coming from?" Cheerio shrugged her shoulders, which made Myron and Dani both say, "Stevie."

Dani rubbed Cheerio's back and she said, "Stevie is a crazy person, Cheerio. That's why he's in here. You can't listen to him, not seriously. Listen to the professionals. Don't listen to any of us."

"But, you're my friends. You're the only friends that I have left. Nobody from the outside world even checks on me. It's like I don't belong to that world anymore, but all of you are treating me like I'm not a part of this world, either. Where do I fit in? I don't know how to do everything on my own…" Dani and Myron both moved in to hug her and she started crying. "You're the only people that I have, here. Even if I went away, I would never forget or forsake any of you…"

Chase stared at them and ate quietly. After a while, they finished and started on their day. Chase was heading back to his room, while they were heading to their class. "Chase, you okay?" Cheerio wondered.

"Yes," he said.

"Well, are we good?"

"Good?" he wondered.

"Yeah, you were kinda cold to me…"

He shook his head, "No. I was just trying to be respectful of Stevie."

"What does that mean?" she asked.

"I mean… Dani's a girl and Myron is gay. It's okay for them to love you and hug you. But, I'm not either of those things and I'm also not Stevie."

"Chase, Stevie isn't even my friend! Don't let some misplaced loyalty to him make you feel like you have to distance yourself from me." She leaned in to hug him, but he froze and refused to accept it, so she backed away. "Sorry. Well, see you around?"

"No. Don't… talk to me."

"Really?"

"Yeah. You don't respect Stevie."

"What? _Stevie_ doesn't respect _me!_ And what the hell man, you're supposed to be _my_ friend."

"Well, you're a young girl and going to leave. I would rather make friends who will be around."

"I'll be around…"

"Don't talk to me," he repeated, covered his ears and walked away.

.

Chase followed Stevie around. Stevie looked annoyed most of the time, but whenever he caught a glimpse of Cheerio, he suddenly became super invested in his new friend. She wasn't fooled. She didn't know what he was up to with alienating her from Chase, but she wasn't going to get involved… NO. Actually, she _was_ going to get involved! She marched over and said, "Hey, Chase." Chase looked at Stevie and Stevie smirked and folded his arms, looking at Cheerio. She stood there a while, wondering what was happening.

"Say hello, Chase," Stevie said.

Chase cleared his throat and nervously said, "Hello, Ms. Robinson." Stevie looked like he was stopping himself from laughing.

"What have you done to him?" Cheerio asked, "And why? What are you getting out of being this way?"

"I'm hanging out with my friend," Stevie said.

"You're playing some kind of game with him…"

"You can't talk to Stevie that way!" Chase fussed.

Stevie jumped and grabbed him by the collar, "Don't ever…"

Cheerio slapped Stevie upside the head to make him let go of Chase and shoved him off of him, while Chase looked like he was going to cry. "Stay away from him, you fucking jerk!" Cheerio fussed and rubbed Chase's arm. "C'mon, Chase. You don't need him."

Chase fearfully looked at her, then to Stevie.

Stevie stepped forward, but hesitated. It was all that Chase needed to shake Cheerio off and go back to Stevie. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be mean to her, Stevie."

Cheerio hissed at Stevie, "This is abuse! Are you trying to now be Hank Sellers?"

Stevie flinched at the mention of Hank's name. He didn't even correct her on his last name, as the comment itself was jarring. Why _was_ he acting this way? Chase was okay. It was also nice to have someone listening to him, for once. But, she had a point… He sort of was acting almost just like Hank Saunders… BUT, it wasn't like he was going to try to make Chase do something dangerous. He just didn't want him liking or dissing Cheerio. What was so wrong with that? No, he didn't want to chase her or even be with her, but no - he didn't want anybody else to do it either… And, to be fair, that was an advantage to _her! I mean, what if one of these sublevels won her over and whenever it was time for her to go out and do her thing, she was torn or emotionally incapable of focusing on what was best for her, because she's an idiot with feelings and kinda an in idiot with decisions!?_

.

Now, Cheerio was tired of the bullshit with Stevie and Chase, but she couldn't rescue him, if what he wanted was to be Stevie's little lap dog. She had to remind herself that Chase was extremely bad with handling people and Stevie had grown up surrounded by manipulators. But, ugh!

Stevie came and sat right by her while she was watching TV. She sighed, but refused to glance his way. He grabbed her notepad. She was going to act like she didn't know he was there, until that. She snatched it back from him and snapped, "Use your words, big man."

"I'm sorry!" He snapped at her.

Her eyebrow raised. "That does not sound like a sorry man's tone, but what do I know?"

He took a deep breath, lowered his voice and said, "I'm sorry."

"For what, exactly?" She wondered. _The mind games, manipulating my friends, being wishy washy with me (when you know that you want me), making me feel alone for whatever fleeting fucking nonsense went through your goddamn mind?_

"For the fact that _this_ is who I am underneath it all. Maybe years of therapy and medication will make me better, but I doubt that, every day. I'm not a good person. I know that you somehow convinced yourself that I am... and I _wanted_ to do that for you, but everything that I've done came so naturally… it's just inside of me. So, I'm sorry that I didn't live up to the idea you made up about me. It sounded nice. And I'm sorry that me being this way hurt you."

She sighed and set her notepad down to lean over and give him a hug and a kiss on the nose. "Thank you. Believe it or not, I think that a person who holds themselves accountable _still_ is a good person who just has bad days."

He shook her off of him and glanced around the room to see if anybody saw that. "My bad days are my normal setting, though."

"For now. But, I think that once you get used to knowing who you are without someone always tugging at your strings, you'll _decide_ to be a better person than your brother, or your father, or Hank, or even those triplets you talked about. You'll be the person that you would have been if everybody didn't pressure you to be whatever _they_ thought you should be. You're Steven Cornflake Evans…" He started laughing, but he had tears fighting to dampen his eyes. _Why was she always forgiving him_? _Did she love him? Did she want to waste her time on him, even after the shit he had been doing?_

"James," he said.

"James?" She turned up her nose. "Steven _James_ Evans. I don't like it," she said, shaking her head.

He looked at her for a while, then informed her, "You don't _have to_ like it, it's MY name!"

"Do _you_ like it?"

"I like it just fine. It's simple. It's not some stupid stage name like yours."

"First of all, I am named after the love song that makes my father think of my mother. My Cherie Amour, by the wonderful, pun intended Mr. Stevie Wonder. My middle name, Charming, is because my mother was charmed by me, from the moment that she first saw me. My name means something, so don't fix your lips to say that it's stupid or a stage name. My dad's called Champion, _that's_ basically an alter-ego. Cheri Charming is WHO I am, and who I have always been!" She folded her arms and looked him up and down, "Does your boring ass name mean something, Steven James?"

"I'm named after my great great granddaddy, who was a head lawman and a celebrated Klan leader when the KKK made their comeback in Tennessee in the 20's…" he noted her face and said, "Sorry. That used to be a bragging point. Though some might argue that the klan was shortsighted and needed to be more organized; Therefore not worthy of bragging…"

"I would argue that your great granddaddy and all the other boys in bed sheets could choke on dicks."

"Great great granddaddy," he corrected, to her amusement, he didn't argue with her. He glanced around again, and seeing nobody paying attention, reached out and rubbed the back of her hand. "Breakfast with me, tomorrow?"

She sighed, "Only if you promise not to try to turn my friends against me again."

"Okay, look - in my mind, I was doing you a favor. You're gonna leave us and you'll be all sad and torn. I was making it easier."

"You failed."

"I won't try again."

"Good. Because you sucked at it."

"Do I get credit for the effort?"

"Not from me, you don't." She slid her hand away from him and said, "And stop trying to touch me secretly. Either touch me, or don't." She tousled his hair.

"Um… I thought you just said not to touch each other."

"Nope. I said you can't touch me, because you're trying to do it on the cool. Do it flat out, or keep your hands to yourself. I'm not ashamed to touch you, but if you want me not to, I won't. Are you telling me to never touch you?" She waited for his answer, watching him fight the reflex to tell her not to, because he knew he wanted her to. She knew he liked her touching him, even though he always pretended to hate it. She stood up, said, "Whenever you decide, just tell me that you withdraw consent. I'll respect it, I promise."


	5. I Can Handle That

**I Can Handle That**

Cheerio fell onto Stevie, laughing at something Dani said. She then rubbed his arm and said "Oh I'm sorry. I didn't mean to touch you." Dani walked ahead, parting ways near her room.

He replied, "Of course you meant to. You _always_ mean to."

Cheerio commented, "It could be worse I _could_ have just come up to you and touched your dick."

"So I heard you say 'could be worse' but then I heard you say…" he let an intrigued smile finish the thought.

She laughed. "You wouldn't know what to do with me, if I did."

"You wouldn't do it. That would be too much like taking action instead of playing games like you're used to."

She slowed her walk to a pause to observe, "Somebody's touchy."

"Yeah that somebody isn't you despite what you claim."

 _Play on the word 'touchy.' Touche_. "Excuse me for not knowing the art of flirting. I usually don't have to. Usually I can just show up and I look like this, and the boys do all the heavy lifting."

"I ain't lift nothin.' You been throwin' it at me since I got here," he smiled, reminding her.

"Hence the reason that I said _usually._ I'm not used to the subject (in this scenario, that's you) not putting in the work for the reward (in this scenario, that's me). I don't know how to do the work, personally. The "throwin' it" that you speak of is trial and error."

"I'm not about to start trying to put work in for it now, especially if you're just teasing, as usual," he halfway joked. He was putting in work, and they both knew it. He wasn't putting in as much work as he would probably have to, but he definitely put effort into keeping her as interested in him as he knew that he was in her.

"Either I'm throwing it at you or I'm teasing. I can't be doing both."

"I think you're teasing until you can decide whether or not you want to actually throw it at me. In which case, I have things to do." Her tone had set something off in him. Like, she was either taking him too seriously, not taking him seriously enough, or something that was a mixture of both and felt offensive to his emotions.

"You could have had this the moment you walked in the door if you would have just admitted that you like me."

"I thought girls didn't like it when boys lied to get sex from them?"

At the mention of him not liking her, her nostrils flared and she said, "We also don't like it when you pretend _not_ to like us, just so you can keep your rep in tact!" Stevie rolled his eyes and shook his head. As long as their conversations kept taking these sharp turns for the worst, there was no way that he could honestly start to consider the risks of taking things further. But, it was still nice to dream about it.

.

Not having class was a bit of a bummer. There were now about 40 hours per week that they had to try to figure out what to do with themselves. Meanwhile, Stevie was allowed to continue his studies, because he needed to basically have summer school in order to fully catch up where he missed out during the breakdown, the assessment, and his trial. The other residents had taken to allowing him to check out the news for any updates on the Schuester trials, and he was able to get a class related computer put in the nurse's station, but they monitored what he researched, to make sure that he wasn't just goofing off. Nurse Penny was leniate, though, and didn't mind if he looked up some fun things, as long as they weren't pornographic or violent. It only occurred to him when she outlined her rules of grace that he could have been looking up pornography and violence!

Stacie emailed him MP3 playlists, so he was able to listen to songs that he enjoyed while he did his work, as long as he had headphones, which he was able to get because sometimes he had to listen to parts of his courses. His class situation was honestly better than the other kids' seemed to be, but also - he knew that he was much smarter than most of them, so this was easier for him than it might have been for some of the others.

"Honestly, I want to do individual courses to catch up. At the rate that I'm going, I won't be able to get back into things whenever I go back to regular school!" Cheerio complained, while Stevie did his homework in the common room. "I always kept my grades up, because I had to - otherwise, I wouldn't have been allowed to cheer. Rhadja thought that I should be focused on my career and that cheerleading was a pointless venture. Champ was able to get her to cave on it, but his stipulation was that if I fell below an A, I would have to quit the team. It was hard enough convincing them to let me go to McKinley instead of Carmel."

"You call your parents by their names," Stevie said, unsurprised. _They didn't act like parents, so why would she be expected to treat them like parents?_

"My mother didn't really like people associating her with having a teenage child, so whenever I hit puberty; I was expected to call her by her name, instead of Mommy. I tried to do it without switching up Champ's title, but I would always get tongue tied, trying to say Rhadja and Daddy, or Dad. I couldn't call her Rara or anything cutesy. Personally, I think Rara & Daddy could have worked. I tried Charlton, his first name - that was worst. And I tried Champion. My folks REALLY have terrible names to ship. But, Rhadja and Champ eventually worked, so I just started calling him that since I couldn't call her Mommy anymore. And my ship name for them is Champja."

"I often think that you're saying Roger… That your mother's name is Roger. She's too pretty to have a boy's name, so I must be mishearing."

"R-H-A-D-J-A. Rhadja. I've tried to research the meaning before, but only found a different spelling and it generally meant a king or ruler, in various languages. I don't know whether or not my grandparents intended that or just thought it sounded nice, but if you knew my mother's mother - I could easily imagine her being so egotistical. The only other thing I found that MIGHT be the origin was Rajanee… which can mean 'night.'"

"I figured that your mom created her own name, to go with her stardom."

"Why do you think that my family is over here just making up names for ourselves? We all have parents and birth certificates, Mr. Cornflake. We got named our names."

"Even Champ?" He asked.

"That's clearly a nickname, but he's had it long enough for people to call him that. It used to be Champion. Champion is on all of his letterman's and stuff. He wasn't Champ until he was out of college."

"I saw a white lady in your family photo," he said. "Is that the egotistical grandmother?"

"Oh, God! One of them, but not the one that I was referring to. I think that she's the reason that I hate the N word so much! She used to always tell me not to act like one, or suggest that other people in the family were acting like one. My black grandmother said that she took my grandad as her 'pet N word,' and these two grandmothers did _not_ get along. (Rhadja's mom is black) and told my mother never to marry a black man with a white mother. She said that white women with black sons hated black women more than white women with white sons did!"

"I find it hard to believe that your negro-marrying grandma hates black girls more than my momma did," he said.

"Well… Your mother probably would have known that if you went through some kind of phase where you wanted to run around with black girls that you'd eventually return to default." She noted that he tensed up at her mention of this, but she kept going. "After all, black women aren't considered nearly as worthy and most white women think and feel like black women are beneath them, so they rationalize that their sons won't really seriously bring one home, and your momma probably would have thought the same before Free Nazi came in with his big, black goddess." Stevie frowned. "White women with black sons though - they've been competing for their kids' whole lives. They want their son to choose somebody like his mother, not somebody like himself. Because, they don't think that black women are worth their sons. Their sons are half and halves. Their sons have their DNA and also this other DNA that they maybe lucked out and found themselves "a good one." Surely, I can't speak for all of them, but that was what my black grandmother thought and that has seemed pretty accurate in my white grandmother."

"Enlightening," Stevie said.

"I was just saying what I was taught and what I seemingly observed. I don't know what actually goes on in other blended families, but every white person who is in the family on either side has been kinda troubling. That's the reason that Rhadja does NOT want me bringing home any white boys." Now he looked up, startled and shocked. "What's that face mean?"

"I presumed that you bring home _mostly_ white boys. You just seem like one of those girls who have that kind of preference."

"I live in Ohio and am mostly surrounded by white boys, so I have mostly fraternized with them. But, I have also traveled the world and met all kinds of people. White boys aren't a preference. Believe me, nobody with any sense would want you all if colonization never happened. You have the market on programming the standards, so sometimes people think you're a preference, but that's generally the programming speaking. For me, they're usually just the most convenient. And I can't bring them home, so I don't usually have boyfriends."

"What do you usually do?" He wondered. He honestly wanted to know, in case… He shook the thought, but listened for the response.

"Usually, I tell boys who seem interested in me that I have to focus on my beauty and my skills and that I don't have time for a boyfriend or even a new friend. Then, they insist that they don't need labels or promises. They just want to spend time with me and do things with it or not, most of these white boys you think I've got a preference for - their folks aren't letting them bring me home either. Rich people are much more serious about this than your people are. On both ends, we generally want to keep the family worthy of the name and the wealth, so while I might fool around with a guy and he might fool around with me, we both tend to know what's up - that it can't go further than our feelings and events together."

"So, you just have fuckbuddies," he said, forsaking his homework completely.

"Gross. I've had friends and associates who I sometimes connect physically with and can make no important decisions about."

"What a classy way to say that you slut around, Rich Girl." Stevie said right before she slapped him across his back. He hissed, but smiled. "And kinky, at that. I'll bet those rich boys will remember you for years to come."

"Shut up!" she squealed and got up and left.

.

Stevie was now fully invested and heavily interested in the terms and conditions of Cheerio's fuckbuddy system.

 _How did she decide that somebody was worth it? How long did it take to wind up on the list? Was it an ongoing thing that could be revisited, and where was he in the vetting process? Because, honestly… How long had she been checking for him?_ He watched her writing in her notepad and kept catching her staring at him, sporadically. A few times she blushed and he just _knew_ that she was writing about him, or at least thinking about him. _But, what was she thinking? That he was cute, but she would never actually be interested in him, because hello - Rhadja certainly wouldn't approve! And, what of the dudes that did get a chance to get a portion of her? Were they dudes that Rhadja also wouldn't approve of? Were the non-white ones able to be introduced? What was she over there writing?_

.

 _"Getting into sex talks with Cornflake is a little bit dangerous. I KNOW he wants sex from me, but I also know that he hasn't had the time to even deal with the sex stuff that has happened to him in the past. In addition to that - he's had sex with grown women and was in an orgy before the age of 16… not that 16 is reasonable orgy age, but I mean… I wouldn't even know what to do for him, IF that was even gonna happen, because keeping it real… We are both crazy if we think that any good could possibly come out of actually doing it."_

Cheerio looked at Stevie again, looking at her and she continued. " _Cornflake's eyes make me feel too many things. Every emotion in the world is present at once, or no emotion is present. And either way, they ensnare me. I want to climb on his lap and lick his lips every time he looks at me. That alone should be reason enough for me to stay away, but he draws me back in, somehow. I don't know why I can't stay away from him. I can't keep my hands off of him. I can't take my eyes off of him. He barely acknowledges that I'm alive. He turns just about every conversation into a sexual one and never likes to mention feelings, at all. He's always on the fence about whether or not we're even friends, and most importantly; I don't know if he has dealt with or is attempting to deal with the knowledge that grown ass women sexually molested him a few years ago..._

 _._

Stevie raised his hand in group and when Pepper gave him the floor, he stood up, "Okay, so I'm just wondering, because we're all troubled or defected, or whatever the scientific labels are that indicate that none of us in here are normies… But, there's something that we all have that is pretty normal and isn't being addressed, and that's hormones." Some of the teenagers giggled and Stevie turned red, but kept talking, "Okay, so I can't be the only person in here that misses sex, or is craving it and has no outlet but beating my own meat and kinda feeling like even that is doing nothing for me. What do we do with our feelings when we're like this? We talk about everything else, but we rarely talk about what the hell are we supposed to do when it's in our bones to fuck, but we can't?"

Pepper nodded her head and said, "That is a very good point, Stevie. Many of you are not virgins, and even those of you who are have curiosities, sometimes and urges. None of you can have access to sexual partners during your stay here, but if anybody is interested in speaking to me, individually about their current sexual concerns, I will always listen and do my best to help. For some of the more urgent cases, we can take a look at medicinal options."

Now, Cheri raised her hands, "Okay, but also… What about speaking to us on the level of knowing when is a good time to engage sexually and not making any mistakes…When we get back out into the world and don't have orderlies and locked doors, I don't know that all of us are capable of the best decisions for us. Like, there are people here who might not really understand consent and assault. There are people here who may not have been effectively warned about STI's and STD's. Is there room for such education in this setting, without somebody having to actually admit to you that they're feeling conflicted or afraid or whatever? Because… Not all of us are open with our feelings."

Stevie had his eyebrows raised at her line of questioning. _Was she speaking about him? Was this the reason that she was all over him one moment, then holding back hardcore whenever he tried to show her that he wanted everything that she seemed to be offering?_

Dr. Fucking Pepper was saying something generic about how children do need adequate access to sexual education, even children who are considered to not be like the other kids and that she and the rest of the staff would organize some type of program in order to address these things.

 _._

Stevie and Cheerio paused in front of the outdoor fan to cool down after gym and she blurted out, "One of the first things I said about you whenever I saw you on TV was that I would lick the sweat off of you..."

His face brightened up, "I have plenty of that."

"Gross. That was sincerely hyperbolic. I hate sweat. I'm not licking it from anywhere. Not even off of you, Cornflake."

He furrowed his eyebrows and tilted his head, "Have you never had sex before?"

"None of your business!" She fumed, red in the face.

"So, no? Okay, well - I'm glad we could get into this subject, so you won't be alarmed when it happens, but it kinda gets produced when that's happening; and as a warning, I feel like it's only right for me to tell you that I produce A LOT…" Perhaps this was why she was generally so unclear about what she wanted from him and why she was "bad at flirting." None of that fuckbuddy stuff ever came to fruition! Nobody ever tapped this. She was uncharted territory… She could be all his, and nobody else's!

Cheerio looked equal parts intrigued and wholly disgusted. "I am not a virgin, and saying none of your business isn't an automatic yes! It's a very different topic of discussion for girls than it is for guys, so we tend to want to keep our private business private."

"Wait… You _have_ had sex and you don't like sweat on you? So… I mean, you've had sex, but like, you hate it, or… what are you expressing to me right now?" He was more fucking confused than he had been before...

"I don't hate sex. And even though I hate sweat, if I'm having sex, of course sweat is expected. I'm not a huge fan, but there's other stuff distracting me from all the bodily fluids. Bodily fluids in general, are not my favorite thing."

"You are going to _hate_ sex with me. I am like a bodily fluid factory. There is sweat and semen everywhere by the time I'm done…"

Now, he had done it. She started walking away, shaking her head and making that face that he associated with _she's about to act like nothing is real._ "Why are we even talking about this like this is something that _is_ happening or something? IF we ever were to have sex - I am going to be wooed so heavily beforehand that I'll be more accepting and less judgmental. Then, I'll be so titillated by the dedicated and attentive foreplay given to me, for my satisfaction, that I won't be able to focus on any of that. And if it goes all the way to intercourse, my wish is that the performance is so spectacular that I don't mind how disgusting a life sized sweat and semen machine is. I was a dancer and a gymnast. Athleticism will have to be peak and skill will have to be on point. Anything below average expectations and I don't proceed."

"I really enjoyed hearing a huge portion of that - the foreplay, the skillful intercourse. Gotta admit though - Not a fan of the language suggesting that we're discussing an "if" _instead of_ a "when."

She stopped walking and faced him, "We haven't decided that we are definitely going to do that."

He folded his arms and shook his head, "One of us has and is just now realizing that the other half of us hasn't…"

After a chuckle, she resumed walking and confessed, " I'm not sure why you thought that we were at that point. You don't even want anybody to know that you like me!"

He grabbed her arm and turned her around to face him, "That's an oversimplification of what I've said."

She looked at her arm in his hold until he let her go, then she told him, "It's my understanding of what you said."

"You misunderstood."

"Explain it to me again."

"I said that I wouldn't want anybody to think that we were doing something that could get us in trouble. The last time we were touching publicly, a fight broke out."

"The fight broke out when that dude said my parents didn't want me. I remember, because I started the fight. If that's the only thing stopping you, then I'll just have to do better at ignoring people so we'll get in trouble less. I'm willing to try to go through ome changes for you."

"Trouble for you means maybe timeout in your room, but trouble for me means juvie ward or possibly prison. I don't want less trouble. I want _no_ trouble."

"They're not sending you to prison. A judge sent you here on purpose instead of there. And what does that have to do with with innocent forms of PDA?"

"IF we aren't gonna have sex, what is even the point of affection?"

"Fucking… connection, maybe? Interest? Romance? If we can't have sex, you just want nothing? You don't even want to try to be my friend!"

"No, I don't want to be your friend. I'm not sure why we keep coming back to this asinine subject! We have zero shared interests and opposing personalities. The only mutual connection that we have ever had has always been physical."

"That sounds an awful lot like all you've ever wanted from me is sex, while here I was, treating you like a fellow human and not some plaything. So, that "IF" I was considering has been decided as a no. I'm sure one of these girls here will be willing to be your coochie on demand."

He thought that he should de-escalate this. He was going to ruin a chance at what could be easy pussy from the prettiest girl that he knew and arguably the hottest one he had ever seen, at least the hottest one to ever be interested in him.

But, instead of fixing it, he couldn't let her win. She wasn't going to make him bow down to her! "I am super glad that I have a couple of standbys. Later," he walked off and she tried not to cry. He turned around and fussed, " And you admitted to me yourself that you were _sexually_ attracted to me before you even knew anything about me! That's how this conversation even got started in the first place! So, acting like I'm wrong to be… UGH!" He kicked a patch of flowers and stormed away.

She yelled back, "You were jealous of Brody because he did things that you're refusing to do! All he got was PDA and friendship and was happy with it, because I'm fucking worth it, damn it!" He waved a hand to blow her off and kept going.

.

Stevie and Cheerio were sitting away from each other, and not speaking to each other. The sexual education sessions had began and while she was very interested in knowing more (and committed to taking a lot of notes), she wanted nothing to do with having to learn about sexuality with _him_ nearby. She was content to pretend that he wasn't even there… But, he was content to bid for her attention.

One of the first things that Dr. Pepper asked them was, "What are some things that all of you think should occur or be granted to you before you have sex with a person?"

Cheerio quickly cried out, "Cuntilingus!"

Stevie snorted. "That is not how you say that and that's not even what she meant!"

Pepper gave him a look, "Judgement free zone," she reminded him. "Cheri, I actually meant some personality traits, behavioral patterns, and crucial conversations that might take place prior to even what you're speaking of."

Cheerio was crestfallen. He had made her look foolish in front of everyone, but she continued to engage in the discussion, "That the person giving me the cuntilingus needs to see me as a person, first and not some sex object that he keeps hidden away and takes out when he's ready to get off…"

"Right! Along those lines, and also, that _isn't_ the proper way to say the word," Pepper told her. "It is actually cunnilingus, and for anyone who doesn't know what that is, it is the proper term that we use to describe the stimulation of the female genitals using the tongue or lips."

"How are you gonna want something that you can't even pronounce?" Stevie asked.

"Judgement free!" Pepper reiterated.

Cheerio actively ignored his question and suggested, "In addition to them knowing my humanity, they can't be hot & cold with me, they need to know who _they_ are before trying to try to judge my life. They need to understand their own trauma and be considerate of mine."

"You've got the handle," Pepper told her. Cheerio began to make notes in her notepad. Stevie tried to steal a glance into it, but gave up when she glanced up at him. She began scribbling more words, frustratedly and he turned his attention against her.

Dani raised her hand, "They need to not be sexually confused. I mean, I get that that's hard, because society makes it really difficult for us to embrace who we are. But it's not really fair to me if I know that I like girls and you don't know what you like that you use me as your testing board. I don't want to be an experiment. I want us to share an experience."

"That was deep!" Cheerio said. "Can I write that down and quote you on it?" Dani nodded her head, smiling proudly as Cheerio wrote.

Myron offered, "Safety should be discussed. Before our lifetime, whenever AIDS tore through the gay community, people didn't have the resources or knowledge needed in order to prevent it or to fight it. Now, we do and all of us, gay, straight, or elsewhere on the sexual spectrum should always try to know whether or not we are healthy, whether or not our partners are healthy and what we can do to keep ourselves healthy. If by some chance, one of them has something, then the conversation of how to deal with that should happen."

Pendleton said, "All that I need to know is if he thinks that I'm pretty and what he wants me to do." She smiled at Stevie and he smirked and looked downward. Cheerio raised an eyebrow at the exchange, as Pepper complimented most of the feedback and offered her own insight, and the insight of specialists…

.

Stevie was headed back to class, with Pendleton hanging off of his arm and waving at different people, being pretty loud and drawing a large amount of attention to them - attention that Cheerio tried her best not to grant them as Myron and Dani sadly looked at her, both at a loss for conversation, until Myron said, "I'm going to bring up age appropriate sexual attraction! We haven't mentioned that yet and I think that it'll be a good subject since people who are mentally ill are more likely to be the victims of abuse than those who aren't. I want to make sure that Dr. Pepper remembers that some of us don't rationalize what abuse is as well as others and that even some of us that know better don't always know when we're being abused." Cheerio dropped a few tears, looking straight ahead and he looked up and saw Stevie kiss Pendleton, in front of everybody - no shame or secrecy, whatsoever.

She nodded her head and looked at her hands, "Yeah, Myron. That's a good subject. That'll be good for people like you and for people like…" She paused when Stevie looked towards them, seemingly embarrassed, but he turned and had to walk by them to get back to his room. He'd even _walked her to her room and kissed her goodnight, right in front of my face…_

Whenever he passed by them, he tried to avoid Cheerio's look, but accidentally made eye contact with her, right when he passed by. He determined that he would make his face stone and hide anything that she was looking for, but she didn't seem to be looking for anything. She seemed to be giving him what he was giving her - a hollow stare. She kept hers on his the whole time that they passed each other and whenever they had passed, she wrapped an arm around each of her friends and kept going, while he turned around and watched her leave. He had done it. He had actually managed to finally push her away. As he turned around to leave the area, he wiped his own tears away, not able to keep them from coming. He didn't even know that she dared one more look in his direction. And she saw him.

.

"So… Guess you do have PDA to pass out, just not to me," she said, casually falling in step with him when she saw him alone, heading to the nurse's station for his classes.

"Well, that PDA came with the PDP," he answer, cooly, though his heart was in his throat, his fingers trembling and his brow sweating.

"Do I even wanna know what that is?"

"Private Display of Pus…"

"Nope. TMI, since we're not even friends. No need to continue. I guess… This is it, then. It was a lot of energy and attention, but whatever it was fizzled out," she said, trying to read his reaction to that. His foot tapped a little bit and he rocked back and forth outside of the nurse's station door.

"Yeah. We both kinda knew that was bullshit, I think. We're good to go, now."

"Yup. See you around, I guess. A couple of strangers. Associates that almost knew each other once upon a time, but never quite made it."

"We'll each know dozens of others just like that, before we die."

She laughed haughtily and placed her hand on his chest, feeling the moment his pulse accelerated at her simple touch. "You poor, poor, soul. You will never know or have anybody _like me."_ She leaned up and gave him a small peck on the corner of his mouth and he pressed forward, reactively, wanting more, but knowing better. "Goodbye, Cornflake."

"Later…" he said and stared at her leaving until she was out of sight.


	6. I Apologize for Any Skipping Tracks

**I Apologize (For Any Skipping Tracks)**

Stacie handed Stevie her phone and he logged into his Pandora account and put in one side of the headphones. Dwight sighed and gave her a look. This was supposed to be family time... "He needed to be able to hear music he enjoys. How's he gonna get better when he can't even live his life?"

"There's music here, isn't there? There's a radio and a TV." Dwight had noticed.

Stevie said, "Usually the people who have the mind to control either of those have awful taste. The station that they have on has made me have to hear every Maroon 5 song that has ever cursed radio waves. MAROON 5."

Dwight said, "I don't know what that means."

"It's a band," Stacie said.

"It's trash," Stevie corrected.

Suddenly, they heard Cheerio cheer, "Heyyyyy!" In excitement. Whenever they turned around, she and Myron were rushing to the television to turn it up and getting ready to dance.

"Isn't that your girl, Steves?" Stacie asked. Myron and Cheerio were doing the choreography to Janet Jackson's If.

"Never ever said that once, or even suggested it," Stevie said, refusing to look in that direction.

"That girl can move," Dwight said. Stevie now failed and turned to see the dance. Cheerio was leaning over on Myron as he leaned back to lie on the floor, then they started doing that weird arms thing they had done as part of her routine, and the rest of the video's moves.

Stevie turned back and said, "She's been dancing her whole life, so, yeah. She kinda can dance."

"That was amazing, though," Stacie said.

Stevie fumed and mentioned, "She's going to probably hurt her knee for doing too much. Then she'll be whining about it and in a shitty mood. She had a bad injury some months back. That's why she's here. She ruined her gymnastics and/or dance career."

"Career?" Stacie repeated.

Stevie suddenly began looking something up on the phone.

"Huh." He said. Stacie looked on with him. "There's a bunch of her dance, gymnastics, and cheerleading stuff here. I guess she had her own channel before she had her injury…"

He played a video of her, from one of her pageants, dressed in a hot pink, glittering outfit with headgear and a tail, like a peacock. She looked kind of like a Las Vegas showgirl or something, but her dance routine was mind-blowing. "She used to be really good," he said and glanced at her in the adjacent room, where the residents hung out during the day. She and Myron were now dancing to an N'Sync video… What were they fucking watching playing these old ass cheesy videos? At any rate, the difference between her ability was so much clearer to him now, but he watched seven different routines before he even realized that his father and sister were simply sitting there, watching him watch videos of a girl he was constantly denying that he liked. He took out the earpiece and handed Stacie her phone back. "Sorry. I hardly get to select what gets watched. That little homo there with Cheri is the director's nephew and kind of is a spoiled brat. The two of them just take over all of the entertainment when they're in the room."

"Who is Sherry?" Stacie asked.

Stevie shook his head, "Cheri, and I meant to say Cheerio. I never call her Cheri. I must have just brain farted because I was watching the videos."

"Cheerios is what they call the cheerleaders at McKinley," Stacie said.

"Yeah, she was on the team before she injured herself. Then, she tried to kill herself and wound up here. Her parents never visit. It's super depressing."

"Sounds like you really care about her," Dwight said.

"How? How does me making _general_ statements sound like I care?" Stevie asked, defensively.

"Because you know literally nothing about people that you don't care about," Stacie now defended their father. "But, you know this girl's whole story, obviously, and said that it was depressing to see her parents not visit."

"No, I didn't. I just said it's super depressing. I meant for her. And I know that and all of this because the doctors make us have group sessions, as well as individual sessions. Plus, she doesn't shut up." As though on cue, Cheerio cackled in the next room. Stevie simply pointed his thumb towards the noise.

"I can't believe that dude is gay," Stacie said, practically ogling.

Stevie made a puzzled face. Myron was a definite, certified, CLEARLY FLAMING homosexual. He turned around and paused, trying not to frown. "That dude isn't gay." Brody Weston. Why the hell was he here? He looked like he had something that he was explaining to her and she was nodding her head, and excitedly touching his shoulder and chest for no good reason and Stevie could not believe that this was happening while his family was here. He wondered if he was on one of those shows where they cause unnecessary public embarrassment. That couldn't be legal in a place like this, though. Myron and Cheerio were both giggling about Brody as he finished his presentation and left her with a gym bag of stuff and gave her a hug that made Stevie damn near claw the table. Dwight and Stacie both tried to change the subject, but he didn't seem to be paying attention. By the time the man kissed her on the forehead, Stevie was red in the face and his breathing was harder. Brody stepped out of the common room, into the cafeteria, heading for the exit and he gave Stevie a wave. Stevie pointed the middle finger at him and muttered, "Old ass pervert." Brody shook his head and left the building.

Cheerio and Myron were taking things out of the gym bag and marveling over them. "Stevie, do you wanna go check and see what's happening over there?" Stacie wondered.

"No. Fuck her," he said and snatched Stacie's phone to listen to music again, putting both sides of her earbuds in.

.

.

Cheerio was carrying that gym bag to and from her practices and training, always reaching in for something or another. Stevie was frustrated, but hadn't brought it up, despite having seen her multiple times since Brody dropped it off. Dani wondered, "What is wrong with you? You're over moody."

"What the fuck is over moody?"

"Well, everybody has typical levels of moodiness and whenever they go over normal levels, people say that they're being moody. You have a moody default, so you're always moody. In fact, you're always super moody. But, right now, you've gone over even that."

"Shut. Up."

"Is it because you didn't realize that Cheerio and Brody still communicated?" She asked, with a devious smile.

Stevie turned around, "They still communicate? He didn't just stop by to give her something?"

"He stopped by to give her samples of his products that I believe he wants her mom to either invest in or endorse. He's got health stuff, beauty stuff, but mostly gear for training - he gave her one of the gym bags, with all of these compartments for your things, and put his brand of the things in the compartments - vitamins, a water bottle, antiperspirant deodorant, roll on muscle treatment, an assortment of knee braces, sports bras, athletic sneakers…"

"Okay, I get it."

"He stuffed that bag to the max. He probably gave her like one of everything that she could possibly use. And, he left the catalogs and business cards with her. She said that she sent one of each to her mother with her daily letter, the next day…"

"Wait… She sends her mother a DAILY letter? What the fuck is it with these people? They just ignore all of her attempts to be in their lives? And this sex addicted motherfucker couldn't be bothered with her because she hugged me, but he can surely be bothered with her to get his ragtag ass business going?"

"You use and hurt her just as much as anybody," Dani blurted, then winced at the face that Stevie made and backed up from him. "I didn't mean to say it, but…" She backed away a little bit more. "And, what's it to you? You're with Penelope Pit Stop, now, right?" She glanced towards Pendleton, hitting a ball with a racket, against the wall. Stevie fought the urge to react. She was right. He had elected to move on. After Pendleton kissed him in front of everyone, there was really no way around keeping them a secret and there wasn't yet a reason to stop seeing her. Dani punched her baseball mitt and asked, "Ready to get back to it, Slugger?" He shrugged his shoulders sadly and nodded his head.

.

Father's Day Weekend, Dwight decided to visit Stevie by himself. Pendleton wanted to meet him, but Stevie told her that she _couldn't._ Firstly, he didn't even consider her somebody that he was actually involved with and in addition, they weren't really friends. It didn't make sense for him to introduce her and he didn't want her to get the wrong idea about what they were. That made her upset. She whined and griped about it until he fussed at her to get out of his face, at which point she ran off crying.

Whenever Dwight entered the cafeteria, he saw Cheerio sitting by herself and said, "Hey, how are ya?"

She furrowed her eyebrows, but quickly put on a smile and said, "Hi, Mr. Cornflake Sr., Sir."

He laughed and corrected her, "Dwight. Evans," and held his hand out to shake hers. She shook his hand, almost immediately.

"Cheerio."

"That's a nickname, right?"

Now, she began her production of a self introduction, "Is it a nickname? It is a state of being. It is an aspiration. It _will be_ an accomplishment. One day, everyone will see me return to Cheerios glory. Right now, I'm in the "name it and claim it" phase of my plan to rise back to the top of the cheer leading squad, first, the gymnastics world next, and finally wind down and round out my life dancing. Baby steps, though. Hence becoming, not another cheerio, but Cheerio. The girl who fell and got back up. The girl who kept on kicking."

"Little Dear, I didn't understand a word of that, but good luck to ya."

"Thank you, Dwight Evans." She smiled brightly as he went on to meet a confused looking Cornflake, staring at them wondering why they were talking. Pendleton watched from the common room, seething, with her arms folded. Cheerio returned to her notepad, not noticing any of them, as she was now going to write about how she had just met Cornflake Sr, because she knew that he hadn't said that his name was "Dilbert," but she also wasn't 100% sure that he hadn't said Dilbert. Dwayne, maybe. Cornflake Sr. was going to have to do.

Dwight sat down in front of Stevie, who sighed and said, "You're gonna get me in trouble," he said.

"For what?"

"This other girl is already jealous of Cheerio and she's gonna give me crap about why Cheerio got to meet you after I told her that she couldn't. Why'd you introduce yourself to her, anyway?"

"I'm willing to meet whatever friends that you make here."

"Yeah. This other girl isn't exactly a friend and I don't want her to get the wrong idea if I were to introduce you to her."

"This is like a girlfriend?"

"Whatever the equivalent would be locked inside a nut house, without the ability to actually court or the privacy to actually do stuff together. We hang out, okay? Not like me and Cheerio hung out, but like… boy and girl hangout, I guess."

Dwight let out a disappointed sigh. "Please be careful with these girls. Girls on the outside world are delicate enough without having all these additional reasons to worry."

"Lucky for them there's always nurses, doctors, and plenty of medicine around." He sighed and asked, "How was your birthday?"

"Fine. Had dinner with Sammy & Stacie. Took some photos. Stacie framed her favorite one for you and it's in the care basket. She used a plexiglass frame, so they oughta letcha have it. She even put some in between the plastic and the backing of us with your dogs." Stevie didn't want to think about his dogs. They might not even remember him by the time that he got out. He was handling them with the belief that he would never see them again, and trying not to think about it.

"I read that the court was going to indict Hank's family for the Schuester trials. Do you think that they'll have things to say for or against him?"

"We're getting right down to the nitty-gritty aren't we? I think that the Saunders we'll have plenty have complaints about the Schuesters. Their son ended up dead. Will turned out to be a liar. I can't imagine an example in which they'd be in his corner."

"I feel like I'm waiting with bated breath on the day that they want to face me, the day that they want me to answer for what I did to their son." Stevie's eyes were damp. "No matter what he did - like you said - he was their son and he did end up dead and I did that."

"You don't ever have to face those people, if you don't want to. Their son was a monster. You don't owe them anything. Just as easily as he ordered your mother's dead he could have ordered yours. I'm not convinced that he wouldn't have, given how he was speaking about you. The guy was cold-blooded hateful and cruel. And remember, he was a grown man. You're a kid. A kid that he took advantage of. And you're _my_ son. I don't care about that family or their loss. I didn't want you to have to be the one to do it, but what happened had to happen, and all I want you to really focus on is getting better so you can come home."

Stevie managed not to cry, but he was extremely flustered. "What the hell is home, now? Humdrum Ohio with Sam and his blind gal? No family but us, and Mom's grave hours away. Every friend and associate that I ever had gone or hating me for what I did. Everyone else that I meet hating me for everything else. I feel like I'll be more at home locked in this place than I'll ever be anywhere out there."

"You only think that right now because you haven't yet gotten better. Just you wait and see how happy you'll be to get out, after they've got you recovered..." Stevie looked up when Cheerio got up to go into the common room. Pendleton stopped her and spoke to her for a moment. Stevie was sure that she was probably asking her about his dad speaking to her. By the time Pendleton stormed off, Cheerio threw Stevie and Dwight a confused glance, but continued her journey to the couch.

.

For the 4th of July, non-dangerous residents with good behavior were taken on a field trip to the park to see the fireworks. Cheerio, Myron, and Chase sat near each other on the bus and Pendleton sat down with Chase, before they left. Cheerio smiled politely at her, but the other girl rolled her eyes and practically snarled. Cheerio and Myron both stifled snickers at the reaction.

Cheerio had tried to tell this child over the past month or so that there was nothing happening between her and Cornflake, that he had _chosen_ her, when he could have had Cheerio, and that she respected that choice, because sharing a guy was for low class girls and she was not interested in such an adventure. Pendleton had heard none of it. Cheerio had _even_ taken to not even saying hello or making casual conversation, or even responding to Stevie in group, for the specific cause of not upsetting his insecure little girlfriend. There was no need for her to. She wasn't over him, but she was honest in leaving him alone if he didn't want her and she had her friends to spend time with and her future to look to.

Chase simply stared out of the window. "I don't want to do this. There will be too many people there. I'm scared to do this. I don't think this will be fun."

Cheerio suggested, "Do you want to see if you can go back inside before we pull off?"

Pendleton snapped, "Why are you always trying to control people's lives?"

Ignoring her, Cheerio said, "Chase, if you need me to get Dr. Pepper's attention, so that you don't have to do this, I'm sure she'll let you back inside of the building."

Chase shook his head, "Thank you, Cheerio. But, I should be fine." He was shaking and she wasn't sure if that was true, but he had called her "Cheerio" instead of "Miss Robinson," so she wasn't going to backtrack on what she considered at least a fragment of progress in their friendship. She guessed that since Cornflake was doing whatever the hell he was doing with Pendleton that Chase didn't feel as obligated to be formal with her anymore.

.

Dani and Stevie sat outside, under a tree and complained about the heat, despite neither of them getting up to go back inside. Dani also whined about not being able to leave with her friends. "Honestly, I have such good behavior, right now!"

"You took out your mom's eye, though." Stevie reminded her.

"I realize that, but I haven't taken anybody's eye out here."

"They can't risk it. The nicest thing that they're going to do for you is letting you bunk here instead of juvie ward. This place honestly could give a fuck about either of us."

"You would know a thing or two about not giving a fuck, eh? _Pendleton?_ Are you insane? Don't answer that. Of course you are, being here. But, seriously. She's so fucked up. It's like you didn't even try! You had high class and chose white trash. Is it because she reminded you of the backwoods? What possessed you to go for her, instead of Cheerio? You know, she's the reason that we can't have CDs!"

"Yeah, so I heard. She's okay, though. Nice girl. Pretty face. She's _not_ white trash, Believe me, that's my market. She's just not that polished, probably because of the sickness. She's good to me and she doesn't play any games."

"Giving you the power to be the one playing all the games?" Dani asked. Stevie threw her a look. "I'm just saying - you weren't some innocent that Cheerio just fucked over. Yeah, she could be whimsical at times and unclear when she, herself was confused, but she would have tried to do right by you, if you'd given her a real chance. She's so in love with you and if I were you, I'd have never blown her off, especially not for no damn Penelope's off the wall ass."

"We're all crazy, though."

"We're... all transitioning into more functional people." She went on for several more minutes about the metaphysical transformation that they could have, but he was still stuck on one thing...

"You think Cheerio was in love with me?" He asked, tampering with the velcro on his sneakers. (They weren't allowed to have shoelaces).

"Cheerio? Yeah. Yeah, she still is. It hurts her every time that she has to see you with Penny Dreadful."

"Good," he said.

"Why, good?" she asked.

"If it hurts her, then she cares. See, she acted like she didn't. She was acting like I was nobody and I should have to grovel before her just to win the chance to be with her. What makes her so special that I would completely change how I am for her pleasure, when I'd just be leisure to her anyway? I'd be her slumming story. What makes you think that _she's_ not the one missing out, instead of me?"

Dani threw her head back and cackled. "Oh my God! You can NOT be serious? What makes me think it is: She is gorgeous to your 'just okay.' You're cute or whatever, but let's be honest - you're short and that's not hot on a dude. She's got the BEST hygiene. Like, she uses all that organic stuff, expensive perfumes, her mom's company's things, and she is extremely tedious about hair days and facial days and such. They send her baskets that help her keep her skin looking," She kissed her fingertips and threw them in the air. "Her clothes are super cute and always hug her tight little body. I'll bet she tastes like caviar and fulfilled genie's wishes. I don't know what caviar tastes like, but it's fancy and expensive and honestly, she's gotta have top of the line cooch down there, probably even on her filthiest, mustiest day…" Stevie laughed now. They fell on each other laughing and he wiped his eyes and begged her to stop it.

When they calmed down he shrugged his shoulders and admitted, "I think the same thing. The other night, I had this dream that I was some cat burglar, breaking into this high tech ass building like a secret agent to get this treasure and when I deactivated everything and got to the holding place, it was just her, with a crown on her head, naked, with her legs spread."

"Mmmmm. I'm gonna commit that visual to memory," Dani said with a pleased smile.

Stevie raised his eyebrows, "I'ma commit the image of _you_ finding that treasure to memory."

"You trying to see her getting eaten out by somebody else?" Dani asked, curiously.

"If it's a girl. That's kinda hot."

"Okay, but what if it's a girl that would like her as a person and want more of her?"

"Do you?"

"I mean, _I_ don't. We're just friends, but I guess I'm curious what you think about that?"

"She's… Straight, right?"

"Yeah, as far as I know, but I'm asking _you_ about _you._ You totally hate it when a guy is paying her attention and you think she might like him. What if there _was_ a girl that could woo her like she wants to be wooed before giving up the goodie pack? Do you consider that girl a threat like you do with these guys, or do you hate her as much as you hate even the slightest note of attention from anybody with a penis?"

"I'd… probably hate her," he said.

"Yes! Thank you for seeing me as an equal."

"You said that you weren't interested in her like that!"

"I just meant me, like my community, Dude. Me and Cheerio would never, ever, ever happen. I can't afford a girl like that. Have you seen some of the things that she brought with her here that she's gotten from boys in the past?"

"No, but she did say that she only ever fucked with rich dudes. I guess I should say dudes with rich parents."

"Some of those dudes are also rich. Their parents store away trust funds or inheritances for them for whenever they reach a certain age or whatever, and it legally is their money. Cheerio has one. She's bashful to say how much she stands to gain, but it seems like a huge amount. And if you have a lot of your own money, you'd likely only get with somebody worth just as much, right? Like… Why just hand over half of what you have to a spouse? Because, she does not strike me as the type to get a prenup. And even still, what if being with someone without much made you poorer? You'd have to support them and stuff. I think that she would support a guy, but can you imagine the debt it would feel like you owe to be a kept lover? Ugh. No in the end, you get either a severance pay and your fuckboy friends asking you forever how you let her go."

"That sounds like you assume that her marriage would fail."

"I see her being married like seven times, each husband more impressive than the last."

He chuckled, "Yeah, I can see that too."

"Me - I'm never getting married. Can you imagine? Putting somebody through not knowing when the next time I'm gonna lose it is? My own mom couldn't even trust me to be okay. I'm not gonna put that on somebody else."

He nodded, "That's along the lines of what I think of it. In addition to the fact that it is an antiquated practice that I can't for the life of me understand why anybody would ever want to do it. And some people do it so young. Like - how the hell at 18 or even 25 do you KNOW that you want to waste the rest of your life fucking and hanging out with the same person? What about when they change? What about when they get too comfortable, or worst… the routine that they were putting on for you fails? I know that humankind is far too fickle for those years of endurance to be worth the payoff of that comfort zone. I would honestly rather be alone forever, fuck whoever I want for the rest of my life, and leave behind some kind of work or something as a legacy. Because, kids? On my family's upbringing?" He shook his head. "That's just another reason I don't see why you're giving me shit about not sticking around to see when she would stop playing with me and just let me have her."

"I see your the first portion, I wish that I was confident enough to have a kid. But, it'd be like the situation I'm worried about with a spouse, but magnified, because it can't even take care of itself, and I sure as hell can't take care of it. You seem like you'd be good at that shit, though."

He laughed, " _I_ seem like _I_ would be _good_ at taking care of a child?"

Dani shrugged her shoulders, "I don't know. Cheerio made excellent points that you would be, so, yeah."

She noticed the little twinkle in his eye, before he brushed it off, but then after a moment of silence, had to know, "Like what? What the hell kind of points did she make about this?"

"Well, that you're very passionate and protective. That you tried to be strong for your family, that's how you got in here. That you defend your mother, so you would probably defend your child. That when you mess up, you usually come around and apologize and try to set things right. That's something that parents like rarely do. They're kinda like 'I'm always right!' At least mine are. But, you know yourself better than anyone and Cheerio has always looked at you way differently than the rest of us, so maybe she's full of shit and your kid would be just as fucked up as you, if not worst." She shrugged her shoulders, but he was deep in thought. _People who weren't in his family usually didn't think that he'd be good at being a parent._ He didn't even think it. He wanted children.

He was even going to donate his sperm to the Brotherhood for soldier breeding, but was placed on wait whenever he had to begin taking medication, because they worried that his illness might 'defect' the potential soldier.

But, as for fathering and raising a child, he always thought that might be a fun part of his cover. Having a little person to mold into perfection and trying his damndest not to mold them like his parents had. He also realized that he'd probably fail at that. These cycles were often hard to break. It was better to just get used to the probability that he would ruin any child's life that would be unlucky enough to be born to him.

 _What a weirdo Cheerio was rationalizing anything else!_

"What are you thinking so hard about?" Dani asked. "About the caviar cooch theory?"

He laughed, "Not this time, but probably before bed. I was just thinking about how I dodged a bullet with her," Stevie said.

"I mean, if you did, you did it just to jump in front of a more horrible bullet," Dani said.

"Why do you dislike Pendleton so much?"

"Hello? That bitch is the reason that we can't have CDs anymore!" He laughed. "Seriously, she's the worst. Do you love her?"

"No."

"Do you love Cheri?"

He turned red in the face and said, "No! I literally JUST said."

"Knowing that you shouldn't be together is not the same thing as not loving her."

"I barely know her and what I _do_ know is that we already danced that dance and moved on. We didn't have anything in common. We didn't like each other's company. We just wanted to know what it felt like to feel each other, because for a little bit, we thought that we saw each other."

"You two are like an All American Rejects album…" He frowned and she began singing, "Swing, Swing from the tangles of. My heart is crushed by a former love. Can you help me FIND A WAY to carry on again…" She coughed on a handful of dirt that Stevie picked up from the ground beneath them and stuck in her mouth. She spit it out on him and punched him in the chest, "You goddamned asshole!"

.

Chase was hugging himself, looking around nervously, as some of the residents were frolicking in a small space, forbidden to go further than a certain point. Cheerio reached her hand out to him and he fearfully took it, but seemed better for having done so. Therefore, he didn't let go of it. The rest of their time in the park, she let him hold her hand for comfort and gave him a hug whenever he asked. By the time the fireworks show started, he wasn't afraid or jumpy anymore and really enjoyed watching them. Myron and Chase each held on to one of her hands as they went back to the bus and the three talked on the ride home.

Getting off of the bus, Chase naturally grabbed Cheerio's hand again and as the three walked into the building and Dani and Stevie met them at the door; Cheerio didn't notice Stevie staring at the handholding, but Chase sure did. Reluctantly and semi confused, he let go of her hand and his expression questioned Stevie as to if that was what he was expected to do. He glanced at Pendleton, latching on to Stevie and kissing him on the neck and even more confused, let Cheerio and Dani both pull him towards the common room, with Myron walking a little bit ahead of the group. Cheerio didn't even glance in Stevie's direction.

Pendleton took Stevie by the jaws and pulled his head towards her face, "WHY are you so hung up on her? She's just an uppity nigger who isn't even thinking about you. As a matter of fact, she held Chase's hand the whole time we were at the park. Nobody even brought your name up. If she ever cared about you, she doesn't now. Why do you care about her? Why am I not enough?" He didn't know what to do with her questions or his emotions. _She held Chase's hand, all day. Even though they had both insisted that they were only friends and as far as he knew, they weren't even THAT any more? And he didn't like Pendleton calling her that, but that would just be another fight between them when he was much too sad and angry to fight right now. He would hurt her, if they did._

"I've gotta get to my room," he said. "Glad y'all had fun." She scoffed and folded her arms, angrily. "I don't feel like fighting with you, Pen." She threw her arms in the air and rushed off.

Stevie made his way to his room, as well. Along the way, he stopped and noticed that Cheerio's cheerleading headband was on the floor. He picked it up and decided that he would bring it to her the next day. Ultimately, he kept it in his top drawer.


	7. The Last Girl That Played Me

**The Last Girl That Played Me**

With the new school year, Cheerio was going to be also homeschooling. Since it was two of them now, Nurse Bailey put them at a table in the common room, near the nurses' station, instead of inside of the nurses' station. One of the nurses would cart the computer out to the table and let them take turns using it, throughout their "class." Their first day of classes, Cheerio showed up to the table first, with her study supplies in her Brody's gym bag, and began to set her area up. She was actually going to be allowed to use a pen, which she was kind of excited about and intended to take advantage of that privilege and make some doodles in her notepad. Stevie showed up a little while afterwards and sat down without speaking to her.

"Long time, no see," she said.

"That's because you purposefully don't look at me," he muttered, not even glancing in her direction.

"Every time I accidentally look at you, you and your girlfriend are all PDA to damn near the point of _PDP._ I don't need that kind of energy in my line of eyesight," she partially joked. He rolled his eyes and opened his composition book. "It seems to be going well, at least. So, good for you. Getting everything that you wanted and needed?" He took a deep breath and forced a smile. He certainly didn't look fulfilled, but he did look annoyed, so she decided that was because of her and backed off. "Sorry. I'll leave you alone. Besides, I don't have the time or desire to get my face clawed at by your girlfriend..."

"She's not my girlfriend," he quickly said, "And she wouldn't dare try to ever hurt you."

"Probably not, but she definitely threatened to," she said, casually.

That grabbed Stevie's attention, though. "What do you mean?" He tried to read her to see if she was just messing with him, but her face was down and she was writing. "When did she threaten you and what did she say?" Because of his abrupt and kind of intense reaction, she was reluctant to say more about the situation, but now that she had brought it up, she knew that she couldn't brush it off, now.

She sighed and began to give him the breakdown,"Weeks ago. Whenever Mr. Cornflake Sr. introduced himself to me in the cafeteria when he came to visit. She came up to me and accused me of trying to get in good with your dad to steal you away from her. To be honest, I wanted to just demolish her with the _'Girl, I practically gave him to you,'_ but I'm trying to be a better person and she already looked upset, so I just told her that the man just came over and said hi. I didn't even realize that he would recognize me from the one time that I ever came around him, but I guess he did and he was just being friendly like Southerners sometimes do." She set her pen down and was all into the anecdote, now. "So then she says to me, and I quote, 'Well, I'm gonna scratch your face off with my bare hands if you don't stay away from Stevie!'" At this point, Stevie is furious, but she keeps going. "I told her that she didn't have to worry about trying to put her poorly manicured little hands on me, because not only do I not go around Cornflake, but he doesn't bother with me, either. I said, 'We haven't even so much as said "sup" to each other since the two of you got together.' But, she reiterated, 'He's mine!' and went stomping off like she was on a step team at the battle of the bands. I was like, if this girl don't go brush her ratty hair and lotion her crusty skin, while she's over here worried about what _I'm_ doing!"

"Why didn't you tell me that?" He asked.

She waved a hand, picked up her pen and asked, "Why would I? You and me had our last discussion when I confirmed that you _chose_ her. So what difference would it have made for me to try to stir up trouble with you two, like I wanted you or something? Especially since we both know that she was just venting."

"She can't go around threatening my friends when we're not even together!" He snapped.

"Sounds to me like the two of you were meant to be," Cheerio said, and returned to her work.

He leaned closer to her and said, quietly, "It was different with me and you."

"Yeah! We honestly weren't together and you were running off my own friends. Me and her aren't friends, me and you aren't friends, and you are, at the very least, somehow messing around with her. I don't know where or how, but you guys seem like you're _yanno_ …"

"We're fuckin,'" he told her. Her entire demeanor and aura went sour at hearing it. She already knew, but hearing it just felt so much worse. "But that's all it is!" He said, defensively. He immediately regretted making her look the way that she had just looked at him. "I don't care about her and I don't even like her that much anymore."

"That's not my business."

He wrung his hands and said, "Truth be told, I've regretted this almost the whole time it's been going on. It's cool to have somebody to fuck or whatever, but I really miss having somebody who could _see_ me, and appreciate my good things _without_ letting my bullshit slide."

Cheerio scoffed. "Who's that? Your girlfriend from before you got put in here?" she asked, laughing.

He sighed, "You kidding? She sent me one of the first letters that I got here, tearing into my ass about Hank. She wants me dead… I'm obviously talking about you. I should have been a better friend, at least."

"Well, can't be a better friend to somebody that you aren't friends with."

"I do want to be friends… Only, if that's not completely out of the question, now?" Her heart sped up and she tried to fight off the smile that was forming on her face. He sighed with relief, "It would be so fucking awkward and tense if we had to sit right by each other for the next few months and not be okay with it."

"Let the record show that you came crawling back, asking me for my hand in friendship," she said writing in her notepad.

"What record?" he asked.

She pushed the notepad to him with the words that she had just said written on a page with her signature and an "X" for his. Stevie rolled his eyes but signed the damned thing. "Can I please, please, please talk to you as a friend about this Pendleton thing, now?"

"It will be hard to hear, but I'm a big girl."

He sighed, "Well, if it will be hard to hear, I'm not gonna do it. We just started this stupid friendship, I can't shit all over it in the first five minutes."

"Trust me, if the stuff you've done up to this point hasn't run me off, whatever your 'Pendleton thing' is can't." She held out her hand and waved it around, goading him to tell her whatever he needed to.

"I don't know how to cut things off, at this point. But, if she's threatening you, I can't see any other option. I'm going to think about that any time she's around. And if she ever actually tried to _do_ something to you… Oh my God…" He just shook his head. _I would fuck her up._

She can't help but to smile about his instant return to defense for her, yet she spoke up for unfortunate Pendleton. "She was just blowing smoke. Since she's been here; she's only ever tried to harm herself. I'd be more concerned about _that,_ if I were you, to be honest. Whenever I realized that you were YANNO, I wondered how will that play out if they don't end up together forever? I feel like the girl who stabbed herself with a broken CD won't take a break up very well. But that was one of the reasons that I asked Dr. Pepper to have those Sexual Health conversations with us. I knew that some of us needed it."

" _I_ asked Dr. Fuckin' Pepper to have conversations with us about sex."

"Yeah but I improved your request."

" _Did_ you?"

"Yup. I can upgrade you," she joked and touch his shoulder. He placed his hand over hers and realize that it was the first time they had touched in weeks. She didn't pull back either so he just stroked her hand with his fingertips for a while, sending chills up her arm and through her core, to be honest. They only parted ways when one of the nurses noticed them and was watching them pretty hard, mainly because they weren't working. She smiled as she tried to focus on her work again. Stevie was more focused on the goddamned switch that he been so effortlessly switched back on, just from one little touch.

.

Dr. Pepper came into the discussion holding a bag and set it in front of her chair. "So, today we're going to do something a little bit different. We're trying to build morale and reward accomplishments. Recently, we went on a field trip and hopefully, we can go on many more in the future. Well, today I figured can be the first of many rewards that I plan to give out for improvement. So, I have a few things here for a few residents that I think I've really sit out and showed some wonderful growth." She rewarded a few people a few cute little stuffed animals, puppets, or dolls, told them what they showed improvement on, and asked them what type of motivation that they used in order to show these results.

"My last gift is for Cheri." Cheerio's eyes widened. She certainly didn't feel like she had shown _any_ growth but Pepper pulled out this little bear, dressed in a red and white cheerleader outfit, and holding miniature pom poms. "This little bear is because you went from having a suicidal break down and two physical fights in the same general time frame, to being observed by other residents and staff, being a friend and a neighbor, using patience, kindness, and consideration." Stevie clap his hands for her and the others joined in, even though they hadn't been clapping with any of the others. Pendleton glared while Pepper continued, over the applause. "So, Cheerio, do you want to tell us your motivation for the growth that everyone has noticed?"

She glanced at Stevie, noted that he kind of looked proud of her, but then chucked that assessment up to her imagination (just like all the things she imagined in the beginning between them), and looked down at her new bear as she admitted, "Well, everybody can probably remember, if they aren't delusional or disassociative, that I had the biggest crush on Steven Evans, whenever all those occurrences took place." He smirked and sat back, smugly. "I was trying to be friends with him and whenever I caused the trouble that led to the fighting; he was caught up in it and he got hurt. First, there was a fight. Then, he got jumped. even though I may have imagined everything special between us, I still don't want to see Stevie get beat up over me ever again. So, I try not to provoke any fights so he won't have a reason to try to defend me." She smiled softly at him and his eyes captured her for a moment longer than she planned. It felt just like before they fell out. She had to remind herself that he always told her what was up - that he didn't want her, or even like her. She had to convince herself that whatever she was seeing on his expression must be more of her wishful thinking.

When really, all Stevie wanted at that moment was to hug her and kiss her and tell her that he was sorry and that he was _stupid_ for bringing them here. She had changed _for_ him, while he not only refused to do so, but _actively fought_ his feelings, aka actively fought against his own best interests. The whole point of this place was to change and become better. Now, he ruined something that could have helped him to do that. Now, he slumped in his seat and was sulking.

Pepper had been speaking on the merits of friendship and how it was a good reason to try to be better people, Etc. Stevie was simply trying not to have a meltdown, while Pendleton desperately wanted him to just look at her so that she could smile or show him some sign of support. Stevie leaned towards Cheerio and told her, "I wouldn't have done it if I didn't think that you were worth it."

"I tried to get you to promise me that you would get beat up for me and you just said that you weren't trying to get beat up _that_ time. That felt like… MY fault. I thought that it was because I had acted the way that I did, that you got hurt the way you did."

"Right. You altered how you react to stuff that upsets you _just_ to protect me, but I'm not supposed to want to protect you too?"

Now, Pendleton asked loudly and annoyed, "Dr. Pepper, are we supposed to be talking or listening right now?" Stevie and Cheerio both hid laughter, but stopped whispering for the rest of the session.

Pepper told the room that she would begin giving them activities to help them to better develop connections and to get them more accustomed to interacting on a personal level. The first activity she called "the secrets basket."

"The secrets basket will be a basket that you select someone's name from and on the back of the slip of paper you will write down a secret. You don't have to say too much. But you can say however much you want. Then we will collect them in the basket again and have them to the person whose name is on the paper. That person will read the secret to themselves and hopefully keep it for you."

"Hopefully?" Myron repeated. "But, if they don't, and we have meltdown from the ensuing shame and derision?"

"You don't have to sign it. It'll simply be like letting it out into the world to get it off of your chest, but you don't have to explain yourself to the person. Only try to trust them," Pepper explained.

Cheerio clarified, "So like if I pick up a slip of paper with Myron's name on it, I know that Myron is the person who will be reading it (and supposedly nobody else should read it). I pull the paper out of the basket, I write, _I wish that I was his girlfriend, instead of her,_ or whatever secret…" Stevie smiled so brightly at the example she subconsciously gave. "I don't put my name on it, but I put it back into the basket. You hand it to Myron. He reads my secret. So, he knows that somebody in the room wants somebody else's boyfriend, but he doesn't know for sure that it was me who admitted that."

"Smart girl! Correct. So, what I suggest to anyone who might be shy or feel awkward - that you let it be a benign secret. Like… _I'm afraid of fish lips."_ They all laughed as she passed the basket around, instructing them to grab one slip of paper and wait for her to pass out the magic markers.

On Cheerio's slip, she wrote, _I think that if I asked him to give me another chance that he probably would. But, I can't ask that of him, because someone else would get hurt and that isn't who I am. So, I'm happy for another chance to be his friend._

Whenever she stopped, Dani was the only one still writing. Stevie asked, "What kinda novellas are y'all letting people in on?" Cheerio laughed, but Dani rolled her eyes and kept writing.

Whenever they reached into the basket to get their names, Dani read the secret: _I am desperate to taste the caviar._ She cackled out loud and elbowed Stevie.

Cheerio raised her eyebrow, wondering what was going on there, but her smiled faded when she read her secret: _I honestly hope that you kill yourself._

It was a huge stab to the heart, and she felt like her eyes were stinging with tears, but she just waded the paper up and tucked it into her teddy bear. Whoever wrote it was probably watching her, so she used all of her energy to fight off her frustration. She looked around the room. Pepper was wrapping up the discussion, Pendleton was reading a long slip of paper, Myron was confusedly staring at his, and Dani was sporadically laughing at hers.

Stevie seemed to be the only person watching her. His eyes wondered what was wrong. But, she knew that if she so much as mentioned it, he would probably get irate. So, once again, she just shrugged her shoulders.

After group, Stevie walked behind Dani, Myron and Cheerio. Pendleton wrapped her arm around his back and kissed him on the neck. He glanced down at her and she noticed a glimmer of something. _Anger? Disgust?_ "Are you mad at me?" she asked. He took her arm from around him and faced her. "Did I do something wrong?"

"Look… Cheerio is my friend, okay? We have to have class together and we've been friends since I got here. If you and I are going to do what we're doing, you're going to have to respect that, and respect her. Do you understand?" She took a swallow and nodded her head, but her heart was breaking. Stevie started to walk off, but paused and looked at her again, seriously, "And if it ever gets back to me again, that you threatened her or that you did anything to her that I don't like… I am going to hurt you, however I can." He walked off, more pissed off than when he began speaking. He pretty much had fired himself up about this subject more. _Who the fuck did she think she was?_ Pendleton just cried.

.

Stevie played music on the computer while doing lessons. Cheerio decided to let him be the one to select it, since she was usually hogging the stereo in the common room. Sometimes, he would sing along while he was working on his homework. He had a pretty nice voice. His twang made any song that he sung sound kind of like a country song, unless he was purposefully trying to sound more like the song/singer themselves. A song came on and Stevie made a sound akin to a moaning noise. She giggled and looked up at him, confused. Obviously, he loved this song!

"She seems dressed in all of me, stretched across my shame. All the torment and the pain leaked through and covered me. I'd do anything to have her to myself. Just to have her for myself. Now, I don't know what to do. I don't know what to do… When she makes me sad…"

"Wowww… This shit is heavy," she said, but he just kept singing as she checked out the stats for the song and wrote it down as she read it. "Vermillion Part 2. Slipknot. I have never heard of this, but it sounds nice." She looked up to see the irritation on his face of her description of one of his faves as "nice." When it went off, she told him, "I love your singing voice. It's hot."

He tensed up and blushed, looking down at his work. "Thanks."

"Wait, can friends not say this, because me and Dani talk way worst to each other…"

"It's fine," he said. _More than fine. Welcomed._

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah. It's just… That song brought out a lot of feelings." He didn't add ' _about you.'_ Instead, he wondered, "Have you ever been so enraptured with someone that it feels like they somehow are a part of you? That you've taken some portion of them, gathered it inside of you and allowed it to infiltrate your DNA? Change you in rudimentary ways… and you can feel it taking over? _I won't let this build up inside of me._ The portion of them within you. You feel like you have to stop it from growing, before they are all that you know, inside of yourself. They replace things that were once in you. Not only do you become someone else, but you become someone else _because_ whoever you carry within… And… That is only your perception of them. Not even who they actually are." He shrugged his shoulders, "I have no idea what they meant in writing it, but that's what I heard and how I internalied it. This figment. This goddess on a pedestal, and the feelings she causes inside of you. You know you can't let it continue. You'll just go crazier. _I won't let this build up inside of me._ That's him trying to convince himself. The rest of the song lets you know that he's already failed at that."

"That's some extra deep love."

"Is that love? It's more like obsession."

"Well, I don't care what it is - I need somebody to feel that way about me!" she said with a laugh.

He shook his head, "If someone does, I don't think he would tell you. Feelings like that are terrifying, to one's self and to the object of them. He'd most likely try to protect you from it, when he isn't forcing it on you. There's no balance in feelings like that. You can't possibly want it. _He_ can't possibly want it. That song is about a painful experience. Nothing like what our minds understand the concept of love to be."

"You need a YouTube channel where you dissect songs. That was deep as fuck, Cornflake. You're more than just a pretty face and a hot temper." He tried to look angry, but his eyes were smiling joyously. She sighed and shrugged her shoulders, "I want to listen to that song with your review in mind. Will I be able to play it again?"

"I'm on the Pandora. If you log into the Spotify, maybe?" He said. She opened a tab to pull up Spotify. "I'll put my info in your notepad, if you want to get access to it. We can't save it into the computer, because they'll throw a fit." She slid him the notepad and he wrote down the info for her.

Whenever she logged in, she found the song and asked, "Should I play the whole album, then?"

"I don't know how you'll feel about it," he said.

"Unlike YOU, I like to try to experience the things that my friends like."

"I've been forced to experience things that you like for almost a year, now. They suck. They always suck. You don't like one enjoyable thing."

"I resent that accusation!"

"You resemble it! You are the image of the accusation that they put next to the definition of the accusation in the Pieces of Shit Dictionary."

She snorted laughter and shook her head, "Yet, you still manage to be totally in love with me." He turned red, furrowed his eyebrows and returned to his work. "By the way… I hate this album. And why do these dudes have on these horror movie masks? What is happening?" Now, he laughed. "Don't laugh! I'm genuinely confused! And also troubled!"

"You don't have to listen to it. Put Pandora back on and she'll play stuff more like the other guy." He got up, leaned over around her, with his arms on either side of her, and changed the tab back to play Pandora. _Right Here Waiting_ by Staind came on the station and he returned to his seat. He sang along to that one, too.

"Man, Cornflake. You know a bunch of whiny ass dude songs," she mused.

"Maybe I've been a whiny ass dude, all along," he said, shrugging his shoulders.

"Maybe. If so, you're the strongest whiny ass dude that I know."

"Guess I can't do shit but take that as a compliment."

"Constructive criticism, at the very least."

Dani came up to the table and tossed her things down, "You two are still having class? I bet you didn't even work. You just sat here making googly eyes at each other and getting moist."

"GROSS!" Cheerio said, but began gathering her things up. If everybody else was done with school, then so the hell was she. "I am gonna take my Dani and go," she told Stevie.

"How do you figure that she's _your_ Dani, though?" He asked. "We're just as close now as you two were when I got here!"

"Obviously, I called dibs."

"When?"

"Dibs!" she called out and took Dani's hand. "Besides, your thang is on the way."

They looked up to see Pendleton heading their way and Dani said, "Have fun!"

Stevie actually looked disappointed AF that Pendleton was heading over and his friends were leaving. The "I don't like" ratio between Cheri's friends VS Stevie and Stevie's friends VS Pendleton, was off the charts. They honestly couldn't stand her. Technically, Cheri and Dani were his only friends. Chase was his follower, but he didn't feel anything for him (and Chase rarely disagreed with Stevie - might have been why Stevie had no feelings about him. _Grow some damned balls_ ). But, Pendleton arrived and wondered, "How was your time with your 'friend?'"

"Good. I'm still working, though. So… I can't really be bothered. Sorry."

"Okay. Want to meet in our spot, later?"

Free available sex and still, he wasn't interested. "Ummm… I don't know if I'll be able to. I'm gonna say not tonight."

"Okay." She distorted her face in anguish, "Is something wrong? Did I do something, again?"

"You didn't do anything that I know of, since our talk. I'm just busy with work. It's my senior year, or the closest I'm going to get to it. Even if I never get out of here, I'd like to just go ahead and get my diploma, since it's possible."

"Alright. Then, I'll see you at dinner, then." She kissed him on the top of the head and could have sworn that he winced at it. Like, she was repulsive to him! She _knew. KNEW_ it had to be because of that Cheerio. She was so sick of this. But, he wasn't dumping her, at least. She didn't know what she would to if it came to that. What was she going to do about that girl tainting their happy relationship, though?

.


	8. I Used to Now I'm Over That

**I Used to; Now I'm Over That**

Cheerio nervously took her name out of the basket, almost ready to just not read it at all. Stevie noticed and playfully asked, "You think there's a snake in there?" She laughed uncomfortably and passed the basket down. This wasn't the first time that she seemed leery about grabbing hers out. And this wasn't the first time that she tucked it into her bear without so much as looking at it. "You do know that we're supposed to read these right?" he asked. She gave him a menacing look and he threw his hands up and backed off. Dr. Pepper gave them an art assignment to think about for next time. Stevie raised his hand, "I'm not good at creating art, more like capturing it. Is it possible for me to be able to get hold of a camera and create a little movie?"

Her face was shocked and her eyes went wide for a moment, before stating, "I think that I can make some type of arrangements for you to be able to borrow one of the staff member's phones with their supervision, BUT - I will need to see a copy of your script before I greenlight you doing the filming."

"Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! What?" Cheerio asked.

"I don't do drawing and shit like that," Stevie said.

"You write scripts and make movies?" She asked, pleasantly surprised.

"I mean… I think I could do that better than I could paint a picture or whatever. I would have wanted to go to film school, if I hadn't been drafted into that group." Her eyes were glistening. "I wanted to have that be my cover, but Hank didn't think that I was smart enough to control film propaganda and didn't think that I was creative enough to create film as a form of entertainment."

She glared at the memory of Hank and shook her head, "Well, if your dynamic skill at breaking down song lyrics and interpreting poetry and dance is any indication, I think that you would be a wonderful film maker! You're extremely entertaining once you open yourself up. You're funny, witty, have an excellent vocabulary - which did truly shock me! And, I'm glad Hank's rotting in hell, because you're smart and creative as fuck." Stevie hardcore blushed. "My movies would be either complete trash or some convoluted abstract that people only appreciate because they don't know what the hell they're watching, but thank you." Nobody had ever really supported his Film School idea before. Mary said it wasn't real school to Dwight said film wasn't real work. His mother wanted him to get a degree and do work that safe, easy, and lucrative. Dwight just wanted him to work hard at whatever he did… as long as it was work and not "some damned hobby." Stacie told him to do whatever made him happy, but asked him to please realistically think about it all before making a decision...

"Can I be in your movie?" Pendleton asked.

Stevie glanced at her for the first time tonight, "Maybe. I haven't written the script yet."

"I was in theater arts before I got sick enough to be here. I used to be able to harness my pain and put it into my work."

"I… will see," Stevie said.

Dani raised her hand, "I've forgotten what the assignment is, now."

"The assignment is to think about three things. How you got here. What you want to do, now that you are here. And what your plans are for when you leave. You will take those concepts and create a visual record for the rest of us, using your artistic side," Pepper repeated.

"My brain doesn't have an artistic side," Dani said. "I'm more of a math biotch."

"Then you can create formulas using the concepts plugged into where variables should be, or something," Cheerio said.

"That's a good idea," Dani said. "I'm stealing it. Nobody do that idea! It's mine to take!"

Leaving the group, Stevie came up behind Cheerio and said, "I couldn't help but notice that you always get worried or scared when it's time for you to pull from the secrets basket. THEN - you don't read it."

"If I can't obsessively watch you, you can't do it to me."

"You can if you want to." She laughed. "What's up with you and the secrets basket?" He didn't let the topic drop.

She sighed and shook her head, "Dr. Pepper didn't think about the fact that if somebody knows that you're the one that they're telling the secret to that they can anonymously tell you how they feel about you."

"Okay, but everybody really likes you."

"Not everybody. And honestly, one is enough. I don't care about any of these people's secrets. They don't get anything out of me reading them. It's kinda like they made an entry in a journal."

"Okay, but I got your name tonight, though," he finally admitted.

She smiled and reached into her bear, "Okay. I'll read it later. It'll be awkward, now."

He paused, thinking for a moment, then asked, "You didn't tell me because you thought I'd get upset, huh?"

"I mean… I was ashamed that somebody would say that to me. It was really ugly and made me feel very small." Her eyes were teary and she noticed that his flickered something akin to anger, so she quickly tried to cheer up. "But, that was weeks ago, and since then…" Actually, since then, she had been having a series of things happen that she knew was somebody fucking with her, and not her losing reality. She also had her suspicions of who, but she honestly was trying to keep all of that out of this friendship.

He gave her a big hug and playfully punch shoved her, "If I know you, you'll eventually tell me. And when you do, I hope it's not as bad as your eyes are making it seem." She forced a smile. _It's worst._ He kept going.

Pendleton passed by her too, and bumped her with her shoulder. Cheerio tightly clenched her bear and notepad and said through her teeth, "Excuse you, Darling."

Pendleton turned around and asked, "What did you say?"

"I said excuse you. You mistakenly forgot to say it when you bumped into me, just now."

"I didn't bump into you, you lying, black bitch," Pendleton said. Cheerio tossed her things down and moved forward, but Stevie had came back and pulled Pendleton away. Cheerio was still moving towards her, so he wrapped his arms around her midsection and said in her ear softly," You've been doing really good. Don't let her mess that up, Cheerio." When she was calm, he grabbed Pendleton by her arm and jerked her away, with him, "What is wrong with you?" he asked her as they left.

Cheerio took a deep breath and then looked around for her bear and notepad. She had the bear, but where was her notepad? She searched the floor frantically for it before Surette came through to tell her to go to her room. "Okay, but can you keep an eye out for my notepad? I lost it."

"How are you always losing something that you say you care about so much?" He asked.

"I've lost it twice, that you know of…"

"Okay, but get to your room." She sighed and went to relax. She needed a bath! That was one of the first things that she would do after leaving this place. That small, shallow shower was the pits.

 _How did I get here?_

She grabbed her custom gymnast doll, made in her image, and set it on her small dresser. She also had a photo of herself dancing, that she might be able to use. The cheering teddy bear could come in handy, too. That was what her entire life was. Gymnastics. Dance. Cheering. Then, she hurt her knee.

The next day, she printed a photo of a knee injury diagram, and a few other photos, while working on the computer. Stevie and she were both quiet. She was still feeling a way about what happened between her and Pendleton, and he just didn't want to stir anything up. She looked pissed. He watched her from a distance, silently, trying to figure out if she was okay… and wanting to know if she ever got around to reading the secret that he wrote her.

 _What do I want to do, now that I'm here._

This part was a little bit trickier. She went to the nurses' station and asked, "Are there any empty boxes that I can have for art therapy - either shoe box sized or larger?" Nurse Penny searched around, and gave her three. "Perfect! Thank you."

"Oh, also… I think we have one of your notepads back here…" the nurse went to the shelf and grabbed it, then gave it to her. "It was left on the counter. Guess somebody found it."

"Awesome! Thanks. I was kinda bummed. Thought I lost it forever." She took the items and made her way to her room, going passed Stevie and Dani, doing stuff with socks. She shook her head and chuckled a little. _Wtf?_

She made doodles on her stationary and put them into one box, put her figures in another and in the third…

 _What are my plans are for when I leave?_

She sighed, frustrated. _There were a lot of things that she wanted for her future. Life that she loved. A good husband. Children to cherish. A career that made her heart glad. The approval of her mother. The ability to move like she used to.. How the hell could she put that in a box?_ She gasped and began to draw something else…

.

After Cheerio was done with the starting point of her art project, she finally went into her notepad to write about this project, but whenever she opened it, she noticed red ink. She noticed it, because she usually used pink or purple, and she usually used fine point felt tip pens. This was like a broad tipped magic marker. And it read "Pet Nigger." She flipped through and it was like that, every page. Between that, the secrets basket, her conditioner being emptied out, oil being poured all over the bottom of her shower, and sand being in her bed, she was DONE. She grabbed it and went directly to Stevie, who was still in the common room with Dani. She snatched the sock off of his hand and asked him, "You told her about things that I told you, in confidence?"

He slowly took his sock puppet back and set it down. "What are you talking about?" Dani cleared her throat, gathered up the socks and left, but stayed nearby, to eavesdrop. Cheerio slammed her notepad on the table and opened it, flipping the pages, "I have literally NEVER told ANYONE about this, but you. So, unless you've been playing your little white spy games to infiltrate and then take me down or something, you told her about my grandmother!"

"I swear to God that I didn't!"

"Nice try. You don't believe in God. And _I_ certainly didn't tell her!"

Stevie was equal parts angry and upset. Not with Cheerio, but with what was happening. "I don't, but I swear that I never mentioned that to anybody. Even though you didn't tell me it was in confidence, I wouldn't share some shit like that about you or about anybody with anybody here, except for maybe you! I don't know how she…" He was on the verge of tears and that made him angry, and Cheerio was hovering over him and that made him feel cornered, so he got up and put a small portion of distance between them.

"You know what, it doesn't matter. I came to you as a friend, so you could collect your fucking chick, but I'm reporting her ass for all of this harrassment."

"All of _what_ harassment?" He asked. "This is fucked up and you should report her, but what else aren't you fucking telling me?"

"Cheerio! Evans! Calm the hell down!" Surette called out.

Her chest was heaving, she was so mad and if Stevie wasn't equally as mad at somebody harassing her, he probably would have thought she was cute and sexy as fuck while this angry. "Somebody wrote me a secret, that they wanted me to kill myself! I've done nothing but try to be nice lately. I'd literally just gotten an award for it. And I couldn't figure out, why would anybody be so mean? Even if I was a piece of shit, why would someone say that to me? Then, shit just kept happening. Somebody goes into my room whenever we're out for the day. They've taken my conditioner and squeezed it all out into the sink, poured my body oil across my shower floor so that I almost slipped and busted my ass (and could have fucking hurt my knee again!) The fucking fear with my life and my knee flashing before my goddamned eyes when I just wanted to shower! And in that same night, I climb into bed and there is SAND in it. Like… A bunch of sand! From outside! IN MY BED!"

"Cheerio!" Surette yelled. She snatched her notepad and shook her head, leaving.

Dani was red in the face, as angry as her friends were, but she hung back while Stevie followed Cheerio.

"That spineless skunk is not gonna get away with that, with any of it."

"How did she know, though? This can't be a coincidence!" Stevie suddenly thought of something and he covered his face. "You _did_ mention it!"

"No… I wrote about it. Pepper has me keeping a journal. One of those five subject tablets. Some of it is for me to just let things out and some of it is for her to read when I can't articulate things out loud. I must have written it in there,(in my just for me section), which means that she's been snooping around through my things, too." He went into his room and opened the drawer on his nightstand.

"Wwwwhat are you doing with my headband?" she asked.

He shook his head, "You dropped it one night. I meant to give it back. I just kept forgetting…"

"I whined about losing this for weeks."

"It was the weeks we weren't talkin,' then."

He reluctantly handed it over to her, but she just put it on his head and shrugged her shoulders. "I've learned to live without it, now."

He pulled out his spiral notebook and tried to scan through it. "I did. I had a lot of unsavory things to say about your family." He sighed and shook his head. "I'm sorry. This is all on me. I'm the one that wrote it down and didn't keep it hidden. I'm the one that even put y'all into each other's space. I'm the one that's gonna fuck her up."

"No you're not. It's not that serious."

"She's not just threatening you anymore. She's doing shit to you, to hurt you. She fucking told you to kill yourself? She should know better, having the issues that she has! I'm gonna fucking strangle her!"

"You want no trouble, remember?" She searched his eyes.

"I'll take it, if it's for you."

"I don't want you to do that!" She hugged herself, "I feel bad enough that this is happening." She started crying and he guided her back to her room, so she could try to rest or something. But, he was paranoid and checking her sink, shower, bed, nightstand, and everything else. "I think it's all okay, Cornflake." She smiled, softly.

He squeezed her tightly and asked, "Did you ever read my secret?"

She sniffled and shook her head, "I lost it when I lost the journal. She might have taken it. To be honest. I'll bet she knows your handwriting."

He nodded, "Well… It said, _I think that I would have been a better person, if you had been my family. I'm glad that you're my friend._ " Her face brightened up and he was so glad to see it. He was even more glad whenever she threw her arms around his neck and gave a kiss on the lips. It was short and possibly platonic, because it didn't last long, but the lingering looks afterwards, he knew he wasn't mistaken about. He leaned forward and kissed her again, for real, this time. She melted against him and kissed him back, even though she was shaking her head.

He had a girlfriend _adjacent_ , at least... who was literally antagonizing her and making her life hell whenever she never did her anything… Wait, on second thought, she shoved Stevie against the wall and kissed him harder, feeling him grow harder but not seeing his eyes widen at her aggressiveness. He kicked her door shut and slid his hands up her shirt. But, after a while, she pulled back and just stroked his ears, "You have to get rid of her before we can even _discuss_ taking us any further. Do you understand me? I'm not willing to share you. Not with _her._ " He nodded his head and she gave him another kiss, then opened the door to see Bukowski about to knock. She jumped at the sight of him and he gave Stevie a knowing look.

"You get around, don't you, Evans?"

"Nothing happened!" Stevie said. "I was just checking to see if anything was off. Tell him what happened," he told Cheerio.

She sighed and said, "I have some concerns to report…" She reached for her notepad and said, "I think I know the person who has been messing with me, but I don't have much proof…"

Bukowski nodded and said, "Well, come on to the nurses' station so we can get Dr. Pepper and stuff for your claims. Evans - get to your room."

"Yes, Sir."

Stevie smiled all the way to his bedroom.

Dani was outside of it with the box of sock puppets, "Is everything okay?"

He stopped smiling. He had almost forgotten… Pendleton! "Have you seen Pendleton?" he wondered.

"She was in the common room with Chase when I last saw her. I had to get out of there. I knew that if I didn't they'd have to send me to juvie ward!" She shook her head. "I know that nobody else but her has been terrorizing our girl. Who else would it be? Everybody loves Cheerio!"

"Yeah… I'm gonna… Handle her."

"How? You're not gonna…?" she ripped her thumb across her neck, "Are you?"

"No. Cheerio told me that I couldn't hurt her like that," he said disappointed. "I have an idea, but… It requires a patsy to sacrifice, and if Cheerio finds out, she'll fucking hate me."

"I find that when I can rationalize that clearly, that it's best not to do the things."

"I know. But… I think I'm gonna do the thing and take the risk."

"But, why? You don't have to! I can throw a baseball tomorrow and bust her in the head with it!"

"I gotta go," he said. "I wanna wrap this up before dinner."

"Wrap what up? I don't even know your plan, but I know it's bad!" She groaned, left his puppets on the bed and headed for the common room. Whenever she got there, he was leaving with Pendleton and Chase. "Oh, fuck no, Stevie. Don't… Ugh…" She folded her arms and paced. Chase could be a dick, but it was always unintentional. He had no future, no purpose, or no hope, BUT - That didn't make him any less valid than anybody else, she guessed. He certainly was a nice guy, for the most part, even though he had always kinda hated her and had been awful the past few months… Stevie came back alone and she rushed over to him, "Oh my God! Did you get Chase to kill the bitch?"

He looked confused and shook his head, "But, I now realize that would have been a much better plan! He totally would have done that for me!"

She scoffed, "No he wouldn't have! Probably. It would take longer than the time between now and dinner to convince him to, at least! Well… What did you do, then?"

"I hooked them up," he said.

"That's so much more grotesque than getting him to kill her."

"He's getting his dick wet by somebody who aims to please!"

"She's the worst, though! And he's poor, simple, innocent Chase!"

.

Cheerio and Myron were cozied up on the couch when Dani and Stevie came over and Stevie rushed to sit next to Cheerio, sticking his tongue out whenever he reached the goal. Dani kicked his shoes and sat down. "To hell with you, too," Myron said.

"I just wanted to comfort my girl. I know she's had a rough day."

Cheerio had a miniature blanket over herself and she shrugged her shoulders, "They gave me some calm down pills, so I'm just sleepy as fuck, now."

Stevie told Bukowski, playfully, "I don't know how the hell you keep your job when you're always slacking off on doin' your rounds!"

"They do rounds here?" Dani joked. Bukowski rolled his eyes, but went ahead to make his rounds, as he was supposed to do every 30 minutes, making sure the residents were safe and comfortable, or in this place, making sure that they're not dead - bare minimum.

Stevie reached under the blanket and took Cheerio's hand, but she gently pulled it away, from under the blanket, and fiddled with her teddy bear, "We should talk about your girlfriend when we have the chance."

He Shrugged his shoulders and said "That's over."

"Since when?" Dani asked.

"Since the caviar cravings."

While Dani choked on a laugh, Myron and Cheerio both asked, "You've had caviar before?"

Dani was chortling, "he absolutely positively the fuck has not! Never will either!"

"I might, someday soon."

"DREAM ON!" Dani practically yelled.

"I'm on my way to the high life!" Stevie cheered.

Myron whispered to Cheerio, "I have a feeling that this is not about caviar, but I think my brain isn't wired to understand any jokes between the two of them."

Cheerio furrowed her eyebrows, "About to insist that she be allowed into this inside joke, now. But, she was distracted when Bukowski came through with a rounded up and disheveled Chase and Pendleton pleading with him. Cheerio got up leaving her blanket, bear, and notepad behind, "What happened?" she asked Chase.

Chase shook his head and insisted, "I wasn't hurting her. I didn't even want to be with her. That wasn't my idea. I wanted to be in my room and by myself!"

Cheerio looked at Pendleton, now all of her grace and patience and everything else was out of the window. "What did you do to him, you shameless harpy?" She moved towards her but Stevie pulled her back and shake his head.

He then cupped Chase's face. "Buddy, did she hurt you he asked.

Chase's eyes were wide. he had no clue what Stevie expected him to say. he just shook his head. technically, he wasn't hurt, not physically - but he was confused, embarrassed, kind of grossed out, and frightened. Chase started crying and Stevie told him, "Don't cry, Buddy. They'll take care of you." He rubbed his back.

Pendleton asked Stevie, "Why would you do this to us?" To which, Cheerio tilted her head.

Stevie folded his arms and said, "There is no us, and after what you did to Cheri, there never will be. I warned you…" She squealed and lunged at him, but Cheerio reflexively stepped in the way and caught her by her hair. She tried to scratch Cheerio's face with her fingernails, as she had threatened to before.

Cheerio kept her face as safe a distance as she could without letting go of her and letting her get to Stevie. She was under the impression that he wouldn't strike a girl so she stood between them but, he pried her away and shoved her to the ground. "Don't you ever in your fucking life attack her." Cheerio was shocked and frozen.

Pendleton was screaming at Stevie, "You're a bad person! You're a monster! That's why your family doesn't love you! You don't deserve to be loved or happy. You deserve to die! You deserve to have your pet nigger fucked by your rapists friends you woman beating, friendless trash bag!" Surette was sedating her, but she was going down kicking and screaming, "You betray everybody and you'll betray her too! You're a worthless hick…"

Nurse Bailey brought over a wheelchair to get her to her said, "Evans, let's take a walk, shall we?" Stevie's face paled, but he went with Bukowski and Chase…

.

"She forced herself on him or she coaxed him or something! Chase is very affectionate, but he isn't a sexual person. That was one of the things that people thought was weird about him when he was out there in the world. His brain processes things like a child's, so he doesn't even think about sexual stuff. He just likes hugs and hand-holding. It makes him feel safe! How's he ever going to feel safe about the affection now? There is no way that he wasn't convinced to go with her and she made him do whatever they did!" Cheerio fussed at the nurses' station.

Nurse Penny smiled and said, "Cheerio, for the last time we can discuss that situation with you or anybody else. It's being investigated and will be handled. Would you like something to help calm you down today?"

Dani said, "When she asked how you could do this, she meant us as in her and Chase… not as in you and her. Did… you _mean_ for them to get caught?"

He sighed, "Bukowski makes rounds every 40 minutes instead of 30. There's a little spot that he showed me where nobody can see you until they make the rounds. Chase and Pendleton didn't pay attention to the time."

"You reminded Bukowski to do his rounds, though… _after_ you admitted to me that you had a plan and told me that you hooked them up. I thought THAT was the plan. To push her off on Chase, but you wanted to humiliate her and make everyone see it…"

"Well… I _am_ a monster, right?"

She sighed, "You have to tell them. Chase is an adult. If he get sent to another ward, that will be so hard for him. He didn't deserve that."

"They aren't sending him away. Bukowski knows everything."

"Did you do all of this for some caviar?"

"I did it because I think I love her… And I'm so fucked up, that I have to hurt people just to prove it… And I can't even say it to her." He bounced his legs, "You think I'm trash."

"I think… You need to listen to that voice that tells you not to do a thing. Even if it's just me. You can't feel bad about shitty things that you didn't do."

"Are you gonna tell her?" He asked.

"Believe it or not, I'm rooting for you. Just… if she does find out, she can't know that I knew."

"And she thinks you're _her_ Dani." He scoffed.

"I'm serious. You did some messed up stuff and almost cost me her friendship. I'm the only person who hasn't had any kind of alternative motives for being in your company. I better be able to trust you."

"I won't drag you down with me when shit hits the fan."

Cheerio finally came storming over from the nurses and sat down with her friends. "If something happens to Chase, so help me… I'm gonna hurt her." Dani gave her a sympathetic smile, but didn't say anything.

.

Cheerio had to make a few trips to get all of the art therapy stuff into the group space. She took up a good bit of room in her workspace and whenever she was using blunt scissors to cut out stuff, Bukowski was watching extra carefully. Stevie was watching Bukowski. Cheerio finished and gave him the scissors, "I did it all without managing to slash myself," she said, sarcastically. Stevie smirked at her sass, as he wrote in his spiral. Since he had already finished his art project, having to do it with supervision and Bukowski's phone, he was spending this time writing poetry and trying to see what all Cheerio had going on with hers. She had her doll and her bear standing on a box with a photo of her as a backdrop for them and a photo of a knee injury, a rope, and a mock suicide note posted inside of it. That was how she got here.

Then, she had another box with a bunch of stick figures having good times and hard times, with a doodle of her. He couldn't tell what it meant, but it was kinda funny. It was like… Not great artwork, but still somehow extremely creative and therefore artistic.

The last box was covered in various cutouts, but empty.

Whenever she presented, the first box - everyone knew that story, so she passed by it. The next box, "I just want to live my life, get better, enjoy my friends and grow through my hard times."

Dani raised her hand, "How come your doodle is a full person and the rest of us are stick figures?"

"Because this is my story and in it, the rest of you are supporting roles. Flesh yourself out in _your_ project," Cheerio said, annoyed at the interruption before her presentation was over. She cleared her throat and waved a hand at the last box, "What I do I want to do when I leave? I want a big comeback. I want to break free from the box that I have been living in, since this," she pointed to the first box. "And, I want everything that life has to offer." She dropped the shawl she had been wearing to reveal a dance dress, and she did an interpretive dance. Stevie noticed a few recognizable gestures. Wedding. Baby. She hugged and snuggled with Dani and Myron, which he took to express friendships. When she was done, she bowed and Dani clapped and screamed for her.

Myron had tears in his eyes. "You'll have it all! You'll have it all, Friend!" She smiled, picked up her shawl and looked at Stevie. His face was blank. Her smile faded and she shrunk in her seat.

Dani got up with just a sheet of paper with different formulas on it, then just read it, instead of trying to explain it. "Me + Abusive Father - Caring Mother = Violent Outburst. Me = Trying Hard (squared) x Living Right (cubed). Released at 18 + No home to return to = I will probably be back here and that makes trying hard and living right almost obsolete. Then I drew a needle. Because, at least I'll feel better than I did with my family." Stevie put an arm around her, pulled her in and gave her a kiss on the side of the head. Cheerio tried not to feel a way about that. They were all friends, after all. But, when he kept his arm around her, she couldn't help but to frown, even though Dani probably needed that support with that bleak outlook.

The last project was Stevie's because Dr. Pepper had to play it on her computer and she decided to project it onto the wall, so that everyone could see it. When the sock puppet appeared on the screen, some of the kids laughed. Cheerio reached out and took Stevie's hand, even as it rested on the other side of Dani's shoulder that his arm was still wrapped around.

"I had goals. I had plans. I even had the route for everything. That all changed when my brother came home from prison. Sam had turned his back on us. He had stirred up trouble with people that I now knew as family, and of course, I was trapped in it with them. But, I chose to stand with blood, and had to pay for it, with my mother's…" A blond girl puppet said, "Noooooooo," in Dani's voice and he said, "She didn't say that."

"Yessssss?" "Shut up and die." The puppet fell over and then a paper gun on a popsicle stick came and Dani said, "Bang!" Another puppet came up with a red dot in his face and a tie on.

"With both my leader and my mother dead, I suffered from a break that I didn't even really understand, still don't. I've been on medication for years. I've had issues since I was about 6 and it got bad at 12. But, this… I can't even explain it. Seeing my mother die changed my entire world, even more than killing over it did."

Stevie's hand slid a "Scene 2" sign in front of the camera, then slid it away. "Now that I am here, I want to try to be a better person." There was an obvious Dani puppet, a Cheerio puppet on Dani's hands, and Stevie had his puppet and a Dr. Pepper puppet. "I have some friends who seem better for me than the ones that I had when I got here. Good thing, too… Because my old friends want me dead. I'm just trying to make my family happy by getting better, if that is at all possible for someone as fu…"

The Dr. Pepper puppet said, "Now, Steven - mind your language…"

"...messed up as I feel inside." Suddenly, the Dr. Pepper puppet got snatched away and they heard Cheerio ask, "You told her about things that I told you, in confidence?" And Dani say, "OOoh, shit…" before the camera stopped.

The cut to the next scene started with the Scene 3 sign. "When I get out of here? If that ever happens, I plan to go to this new place that my family calls home, and see if it's possible to make it mine. Right now, I can't fathom a home outside of here. In here, I found stuff that I didn't know I was missing and met people that I didn't know could exist. If I can have them with me when I make that home outside of here, it might be nice. But, if I have to stay here forever, well… That shit don't sound half bad, either."

.

"You two think that my future vision is naive and foolish, don't you?" Cheerio asked, as they left group. Dani vehemently denied it. Stevie just shrugged his shoulders. "What's wrong with it, Cornflake?"

"Nothin,' it's just kinda bittersweet."

"Bittersweet, how?" She wondered, "It's just sweet. It's sweeter than sweet. Sweetersweet is what it is!"

"Yeah - it's sweet to imagine you leaving and making cheer captain, and graduating, going to prom, going to college, dancing abroad, falling in love, getting married and making babies with some African dignitary or some shit. We just see different futures for ourselves and that's fine, but hell - why do I have to be overflowing with joy at the thought of not seeing you no more in another few months or so? Why can't I just work through the bitter part without you trying to tell me how to react to it?" Dani rubbed his back and Cheerio was pretty much done, at that point. She sighed and nodded, "You're right. Feel however you feel. Your feelings are valid. Good night to you both."

When she left, Dani asked, "Is she mad or is she sad? Either, or - she's being a cunt, right?"

"That, she is," he agreed.

"But, she's our cunt."

"She'll cuss us out in her notepad and be alright at breakfast."

"How about you? Will you be alright?" Dani wondered.

Stevie noticed Bukowski and sighed, "Does he not have a fucking night off?"

" _What_ is the deal with him, lately?"

"Can't say. I gotta go, though."

"Goodnight… Be careful." Dani furrowed her eyebrows. She wasn't sure _why_ she'd said that, but there always seemed to be something off whenever Stevie was summoned by Bukowski. She didn't really like it.


	9. Holding Grudges Over Love

_TW: For toxic BDSM conditions, raceplay, and extensive conversation about + mentions of rape and sexual abuse. I put TW in the synopsis, so I'm not sure if I'll be including them with every chapter that features something, but there is so much darkness in this chapter and I feel like that should be warned about. Also, I ran out of black girls who were minor characters in the actual Glee universe, so I just basically had to make up an OC from scratch. Maybe will search through some of the extras from over the years and try to pin Allie-Ann as one of them._

 _Keep in mind that the thoughts, views, comments, and sometimes narration of the characters are not that of the author. Just came out of my messed up mind. Sometimes, I think readers are unclear on my personal stands on things because I write characters with a range of emotions, tastes, levels of toxicity, and dangerous or straight up abusive and evil characteristics. This doesn't mean that I am like any of the characters or enjoy all of the things that they do. Raceplay is gross, to me. But, I do recall a boom in raceplay in the BDSM community and this is around the time frame for some of that._

 _I also support BDSM, if practiced healthily. Hence, why I used "toxic BDSM conditions" instead of simply "BDSM" as the TW. 50 Shades f***ed up a lot of folks' gauge on BDSM relations, but I don't have time for that tangent today._

 **Holding Grudges Over Love**

Cheerio knew that things were not simply going to become _good_ between her and Stevie. There was the entire thing about Chase and Pendleton, which he kept saying he was fine about, but she could tell that it bothered him. He was a sensitive soul. She knew that much. Sometimes, he seemed angry when she was sure that was simply how he expressed hurt. He didn't seem hurt or angry, but moody and she felt like it was probably related to that fiasco. Even though they weren't "together," she knew that she was hurt when she saw him with someone else. She wasn't really buying that it didn't bother him to know that those two got it on.

Pendleton was sent to recover in a more private area, and Chase was (likely permanently) sent to another ward, where he would have less people to interact with.

None of the other residents were told this, so the ones lucid enough had formed their own conclusions about what happened to them.

Stevie knew, but he couldn't say. His little trips with Bukowski made communication virtually impossible for him and put a strain on what he was trying to do with Cheerio. Everybody knew that she and him were… whatever. They were so frequently referred to as each others' girlfriend/boyfriend (even during his Pendleton phase), that neither of them even corrected anybody anymore.

But, no matter how thick she seemed to be laying on the "I am trying to get you to be with me," Stevie wasn't responding to it the way that she had hoped. She figured that maybe he was dealing with his emotions, but she had also known him to generally pretend that he didn't have any, so the fact that he was obviously suffering through some was… troubling.

He got so tense and rigid whenever she tried to get close to him that she began to wonder if he HAD kissed her that night or if it was somehow just a very realistic daydream where she had incorporated whatever she presumed his lips to taste like and the feel of his hands against her skin, causing goosebumps and generating heat. To confirm, she came up to him and asked, casually, "Are we ever going to discuss that kiss?" He turned red and glanced around. He looked at Bukowski, hanging out with a silent resident, but not really paying attention to him and he shrugged his shoulders. "I'm gonna sit down." She sat down, next to him and he moved across the table. "Wow." He shrugged again. "So… I thought that we were passed all of that. We had that whole tiff about PDA, PDP, the P's in between and after you royally fucked up by getting with Pendleton, we _kissed…_ Granted, It was in private and nobody saw, but what, now - you go back to not just wanting to keep me a secret but not even wanting to be around me, at all?"

"It's not that. Every since the PendleChase scandal, Bukowski's been watching me very closely. I don't want to cause any trouble with that dude. He's demented."

"Under any other circumstances, I would highly appreciate the fact that you used a ship name, but that one is an abomination. Please never say it again. Now that we're clear on that, are you trying to get me to believe that the reason that you are being cold to me is because one of the most incompetent members of this staff has his eye on you?" She folded her arms, "Intelligence insulted."

"You don't know him, at all," Stevie said. "He's already asked me if you're 'next.' He knows about me and Pen. He always knew about me and Pen. You were wondering how I managed to pull that off? Because he knew. He just made some guidelines and I don't want to get into all that, but Chase and Pendleton happened on his watch, without his approval and now he's gonna be making sure that I won't do anything that I'm not supposed to."

"And you're not supposed to sit on the same side of the table with me?"

"I don't want him to see us together, because I don't know what he might do with that information!" He snapped.

She looked confused and frustrated. He calmed down a little bit. "He's… _twisted,_ Babe. I'm concerned for you. I promise, I'm not trying to hurt you." She couldn't tell if he called her "Babe" just to calm her down, but it just made her want him more.

"Well… I'm going to my room. Stop by, if you can get out of his eyesight."

"He's with Allie-Ann, so he'll be there at least until it's time for him to make his rounds. I'll come by in a few. Can't leave together."

"That is creepy and I expect an explanation."

"Yes it is, and no, I can't give you one…"

.

Cheerio sprayed some mist around her bedroom, tried to pick her breasts up in her top, adjusted her skirt to make it look shorter, and settled on her bed with her teddy bear. By the time Stevie showed up, she was pretending to write in her notepad. She was simply doodling "Steerio." She looked up, trying to look cool, but whenever she saw him look her over, she blushed and shifted to put away her notepad. "Hi, ya," she said, earning her a perplexed look from him.

"What the hell kinda Ned Flanders ass greeting was that? And _I'm_ the corny one." He sat on the foot of her bed and clasped his hands together, like he didn't trust them not to do something wrong.

"Okay. So… We're alone. What's up?"

"I've got some things going on right now. You probably know that there was a lot of focus on the Schuester trials, and not so much on Kyle's trial… for killing my mom…" He sighed and she crawled over and wrapped her arms around him. That made the tears start to fall, but his speech was still clear, "I just feel really fucked up, lately. From the Pendleton and Chase bullshit, to this newfound fuckshit with Bukowski, and with the trials… I'm just really overwhelmed, and I don't know if I can focus the way that you need for me to. You're very clear that you still have standards and I can't live up to them _and_ work on me. And, I think you can agree that I need to fuckin' work on me. The best I can do is be a probably shitty friend."

She nodded her head against his shoulder and whimpered, "I understand."

 _And now, the hardest fuckin' part…_ "I don't expect you to wait for me to get my shit together, either."

She quickly sat up and studied his profile, wondering if he was serious. "You _say_ that…"

"I'm definitely gonna lose my shit the first time you appear to be moving on, but I gotta get over it. I gotta let you do your thing while I work out all this fucked up shit." _He sounded so mature and grounded. What in the world had changed to make him sound like this?_

She just wanted to lighten the mood. "I'm still gonna be all over you," she said.

"That sounds like more than I feel like I deserve."

"It's what _I_ deserve, though. Lemme see yo dick," she joked. He laughed and sniffled. "I was just playing. I would say 'lemme see yo dick, please?'"

"Naw. I kinda like you being bossy and demanding dick. It's super hot. Like when you shoved me against the wall and kissed me like you were gonna hatefuck me. That was easily the best kiss I ever got."

"Okay, then, do show it to me."

He turned to her and looked her in the eyes, but she shyly turned away. "I thought so," he said, then got up. "SO, nobody's showing anybody any dick. But, I need your friendship. You know that, right?"

"If you say so, I believe it," she said.

He stopped at the door and said, "If your family ain't comin' for the upcoming holidays… I know last year you felt a way about it… If you wanna… Chill with mine a little… I can let the staff know so you don't get taken down."

"I'll probably just watch families do their thing, but thank you for the invite."

"It'll be an open invitation, in case you change your mind." He smiled bashfully and fiddled with his hands, "And, I hope that you do. They… really wanna meet you…" She smiled so bright that she thought that she was going to break her jaw.

Bukowski watched Stevie come out of Cheerio's room again and he gave him a look. Stevie sighed. _This shit was so frustrating!_ If he was honest with himself, he should be accountable for a portion of participation in this. He also felt like… He was just trying to do normal kid shit and score with a girl. That shouldn't warrant… all this fuckin' extra!

.

Whenever Stevie first got involved with Pendleton, he did it to spite Cheerio, and the spite was specifically tied to the fact that she wouldn't give him sex. He knew that he couldn't flat out say that, because technically, he wasn't entitled to it, but he did feel that way, silently. SHE chose him, then she just… let him wade by himself, in the deep end. He just needed her to throw him the raft that she had been displaying, but right when he reached it, she would pull it a little bit further away. She would make him work harder for it. He was drowning in emotions, and she wanted him wallowing there, or else, she would have been what he needed her to be. And - he knew that wasn't fair. It wasn't her responsibility to save him, but it felt like she was the only one who could, so he tried to make her.

She tried to make him save himself. All that subtext in group about unpacking his "abuse" and making it known that she thought having sexual relations with a survivor could be damaging to both of them (if not properly dealt with). He felt offended and attacked. He felt ashamed. He knew that everyone knew that was an open declaration not to give herself to him. He wanted to offend, attack and shame her, too.

Being seen with another girl, knowing that one of her main insecurities about him was the fact that he wanted to keep her hidden - also for primarily selfish reasons - that really hurt her. He could tell. He saw it. Her pain was tangible and he had done this to her… on purpose, no less!

When he did it, he could see her face. The face that looked like the personification of how he felt about those that were dead to him. He had played with her headband, every night, telling himself he'd use it to speak to her the next day. He had it in his pocket a few times when he looked right at her, living her life like he never existed. She was so content. She so flawlessly went back to being a cheery and wholesome girl with a great smile and infectious laugh… and he was hatefucking somebody who he literally did not like, at all.

The moment that his foot was back in the door, he promised himself he wouldn't do the same stupid shit. He was relatively sure that he'd do some _new_ stupid shit, but satisfied to deal with that whenever it came up. Then, he set Chase and Pendleton up, and well… that was the "new stupid shit" that opened the floodgates for some vile darkness and weeks of discomfort in Bukowski's presence.

 _That night, Bukowski brought Chase to his room and locked him inside, then had Stevie come with him to Allie-Ann's room. Stevie had seen her before but didn't really pay much attention to her. She didn't speak so they didn't talk. she was a little bit older so they didn't have to go to group together. Honestly she was like what Chase would be to him if Chase didn't talk. He knew of her but didn't know anything about her._

 _But, in her room, she had a little table, with a chair and some beauty stuff. Bukowski started combing and braiding her hair and asked Stevie, "What happened tonight?"_

 _Knowing that Bukowski probably already knew, had proof, or would be able to tell whether or not he was lying; Stevie gave him a full confession of how he had convinced Chase that this thing with Pendleton was a good thing, then let them get caught doing it._

 _Bukowski HAD already realized this and commenced to taunt him, "So, do you like to actually rape, or just watch, like your brother?"_

" _That's not…"_

" _Which one, Evans? The act or the witnessing it?" Bukowski asked, braiding Allie-Ann's hair. "I mean, your brother raped over a dozen girls…"_

" _He never touched them."_

" _Just watched and recorded, I heard. And he got off for it. The one person who had been willing to talk just dropped the charges, right?"_

" _Are you writing a college paper?" Stevie asked._

" _And that one person was the_ same _person that you kidnapped and tried to kill, shortly before you came here…" Now, Stevie was silent._ Who the fuck had Bukowski been talking to, to know this information? " _It's in your file," Bukowski answered the silent question. "You abuse women. You've kidnapped, strangled, knocked a woman unconscious, you shoved a girl to the floor tonight, in front of everyone, and I think that you probably have been involved in a series of rapes that took place in the woods."_

 _Stevie immediately said, "You're wrong about that. I've never raped anyone, in my life." Kyle, Josh, and Max took plenty of girls to the woods, but he had never went with them and as far as he knew, nobody else had been either. It was one of their bonding moments. They called it their 'hunting trips.' It was kind of like what he knew Sammy to go out and do with Jesse St. James and Dave Kurofsky, but on steroids..._

" _Just inciting it does it for you?" Bukowski broke into his mental tangent._

" _I don't abuse women. I just… Have gotten a bit violent with a few, at times. That's… Not because they were women. And, I didn't incite anything. I did him a favor."_

" _Well, Chase didn't want that. I could tell and I know that you could tell. I don't know if your substitute fuckdoll could tell, but she was just trying to win your favor, wasn't she? You had her think that what she could do to make it up to you what she had been doing to upset you was to give this thing to Chase… This thing that Chase didn't even want."_

" _It's impossible for a girl to rape a boy!"_

" _Who taught you that bullshit?"_

" _You have to get his dick hard to fuck him and if he didn't want it, his dick wouldn't be hard. And what dude ever doesn't want to fuck a girl, if it's available?"_

" _Dudes that aren't straight or aren't interested. You think that if somebody pounced on Myron and the friction gave him a hard-on that them continuing without his permission wouldn't be rape?"_

" _The hard-on IS the permission!" Stevie fussed._

 _Allie-Ann's eyes widened and Bukowski rubbed her shoulders. It was the first time that Stevie realized/noticed that Bukowski was hella chummy with her. It was a little bit weird that he'd been doing her hair, but some of these residents were incapable of proper self care and Stevie had just assumed that she must have been among them, since the hair thing was so casually and naturally done._

 _She still wasn't saying anything, but he was wrapping her hair up in a silk scarf and he shook his head. "This must be some trickle down from your first time. What was that like, again? I mean, I read your file, but I don't remember all of these details. So, tell me." Then, to Allie-Ann, he said softly, "Get ready."_

 _Stevie nervously tapped his foot and recounted, as Allie closed her bedroom door and climbed into her bed, "Well, I was 13 and we were bussed to a campsite, where we did training, in Tennessee. My folks had signed some papers for me to go. It was an enrichment camp, celebrating coming of age. So, whenever we got there, we did different training exercises, some trivia, watched a lot of propaganda, did a few projects, and at the end, we had a graduation, where we got our first badges, a certificate of completion and rewarded with alcohol and beautiful women. They did whatever you said and you did whatever they said. It was good. It was excellent. It was amazing. The guys that I know who had to bargain for blow jobs in the laundry room while of their parents' house while they were watching TV across the hall were jealous as hell. I had sex with three women that night. I fell asleep with long blond hair and long legs wrapped all around me. I don't think I would have woke up in bliss if I was raped, do you? I would have lost something. I would have felt something bad. I wanted to do what I did and I love what happened!"_

" _But, you were affected. Because, to you, it's cool for you to convince friends to rape each other and also - even if you weren't involved in those rapes in the woods; I know that you knew about them, right?"_

" _You seem very determined to discuss rape with me… and yet, you aren't a therapist. Are you even supposed to be reading my file? Are you supposed to be posted up in Allie-Ann's room like this? How familiar are you with her?"_

" _Oh, Allie-Ann is… special. You understand. You have a pet nigger, too - I hear."_

 _Stevie stopped tapping, stood up straight and wadded his fist. "You gonna punch me? After you just admitted to me your criminal act against another resident in this facility? You tryin' to rack up reasons to spend the rest of your stay in juvie ward?" Bukowski walked up to Stevie, stared him right in the face and asked him, "Do you really want to cross me, then have to leave your pet alone, at my disposal?"_

" _You wouldn't dare do anything to her," Stevie said, not addressing the thing he called her._

 _Bukowski laughed and handed Stevie his phone, "I want you to record something, since you imagine yourself to be a movie maker and recording shit runs in your family…" Bukowski went over to the bed and climbed in with Allie-Ann. Stevie nervously pressed record, unsure of what he was about to witness, until it was happening. Then… It did happen. She didn't put up a fight, scream, or even seem affected at all. She just laid there, staring out into nothing, almost like an empty shell. Bukowski climbed out of the bed, took his phone back, "Wooo, got some good angles, Baby. He IS good at recording. Better than his brother." To Stevie he said, "Found your brother's work on the Internet. Some of that shit got leaked after St. James died. Quality work, I think. I saw the one of that girl that you kidnapped! She was fine as fuck back then, too. I have that one downloaded to my hard drive..."_

 _Stevie thought about Aphasia. He'd thought about her a few times, felt bad about some of the things that took place, but wasn't at all ready to deal with them or with the thought of Bukowski watching her be violated by his brother and friends. He wasn't really about watching videos like that anymore, since he was away from the people who insisted on it. "You're a fucking sicko," Stevie said._

" _Maybe. Maybe YOU are. You like it as much as me. Your brother liked it and you've always wanted to be him. Your friends liked it and you followed them faithfully. Hell, I wonder what kind of nasty stuff you're doing to Cheerio's bourgeois pussy, or should I say caviar? That's what you and Dani Dyko call it, right?"_

" _Why are you such a fucking creepy ass stalker, Man? What made you this way?" Stevie asked, actually terrified for himself, his friends, and this poor unfortunate girl that the orderly MUST HAVE been doing this to for so long that she just accepted the shit as routine now._

" _Why are you in denial of what you enjoy?" Bukowski asked._

" _Nothing about what just happened was enjoyable! You're talking to me about raping and then you get me to record you doing it to one of the patients?"_

" _Resident, and she belongs to me. That's different. This was consensual."_

" _I didn't witness her consent!"_

" _Well, I told her to get ready, she shut the door, climbed into bed, got naked and waited for me. You don't consider that consent, but you consider a hard-on to be consent?"_

" _That's different! She's a girl!"_

" _A black girl. You didn't actually see them as human until what, last year? And, I'm not convinced that you do, even now. I mean - you definitely wanna fuck that one out there. Nobody's confused about that much, but you don't want a partnership. You don't want something functional and beautiful. You just want some juicy black puss. You could get that here, for zero hassle. Allie-Ann does whatever I say. You want some of this?"_

" _No, thank you."_

" _Come on, get in the bed, Evans. She's nioce. Just the contrast of her dark ass skin and yours is gonna get me off. Do it."_

" _I said…"_

" _Yeah, but I don't care what you said, just like you didn't care what Chase said." Bukowski smiled and pointed his phone at Stevie. "Get ready, Allie!" Allie-Ann simply spread her legs, not moving otherwise, as she laid in bed._

" _To confirm, you're gonna force me to fuck your mentally ill abuse victim," Stevie said._

" _She lives to make me happy. You're failing at having a pet if you don't already know this."_

" _I don't have a pet and I don't want to do this."_

" _Well, you think about how Chase must have felt as you push through it."_

" _But, Pendleton agreed. Allie-Ann is… I don't know…"_

" _A perfect pet. She doesn't complain, she doesn't talk (at all), she can't get pregnant, but she does get wet. Have fun, Buddy." Stevie flinched when he said it. That was exactly what he told Chase. "Have fun, Buddy…" After Stevie was finished, he felt bad. Allie-Ann seemed fine, and she got up and went to take a shower, silently._

 _Bukowski opened the door back and offered a hand at the seat across from him. He and Stevie sat at the table, with Stevie just now realizing that her room had a table with_ two _chairs at it... How long and how normalized had Bukowski been doing things with this girl? Stevie shook his head, "I feel sick."_

" _Why?" Bukowski asked._

" _It's not supposed to be like that. That wasn't how sex is supposed to feel."_

" _So, you feel sick because I got Allie to open her legs for you, or because you can imagine how Chase must feel? And, come to think of it… You couldn't understand how it must feel for Chase. That motherfucker has never touched a girl before. Now, he gets to remember his first time as rape… even if you refuse to see yours that way."_

" _What the fuck is this? Some twisted lesson?"_

" _Kinda. I like Chase. He's a good guy. He didn't deserve that shit. At least you got something that you wanted."_

" _I didn't want Allie-Ann, though."_

" _You wanted sex. You got it."_

" _But…"_

" _But, I made you? Like you made Chase?"_

" _OKAY! Fuck. I won't do something like that again."_

" _Good. It's fucked up, right? Gross." Allie-Ann came back into the room, paused when she saw that they were still there, then sat on the foot of her bed. Bukowski looked at her, "We're gonna hang out here for a while, Allie." She crawled to her nightstand and grabbed a book to start reading. Then, Bukowski kept talking to Stevie, "So, I want to talk about those attacks. The ones that I mentioned, and you denied being a part of, but I could tell that you knew what I was talking about."_

 _Stevie sighed and nodded his head. He was feeling pretty vulnerable. One way to get him talking was to have him suffer a trauma. He was gradually realizing this about himself, but he still kept talking. Bukowski kinda had the upper hand and maybe if he told him everything, he would finally let him go and leave him alone._

" _It wasn't me. It was my friends. Honestly, I was living in Kentucky most of that time. I was mostly able to keep up with the triplets online. Sometimes, they traveled with their uncle and we got to see each other if they passed near our home. We grew up together, so we did still talk on the phone and in comments of our online communities and group chats."_

" _Those triplets, right?" Bukowski asked._

" _Yeah."_

" _Tell me about it, please? I'm honestly interested in this."_

" _Well… They all had different parts of the system. I don't know what else to call it. They called it hunting trips. They'd generally select one, as a team. Max would be surveillance and collection. Basically stalk her for a while. He'd make recordings of her for weeks before they actually grabbed her. When they decided the time was right, Kyle usually grabbed her. He's… The one that… Shot my mother. He would wrestle her into the truck, make a little game of it. Let her think she's strong enough to struggle with but then overpower her, hogtie her and force her into the truck…" Allie-Ann's hand shook as she held her book tightly. Stevie looked over at her and was concerned about her hearing all of this, especially since it seemed to make her uncomfortable._

 _Bukowski asked, "Did they take her into the woods? Put a noose on her? Tie her to a tree and ravish her repeatedly?"_

" _How… do you know about this? I_ _ **never**_ _had any of this in my file!"_

" _I think I know a girl." He looked over at Allie and she was staring right at Stevie, petrified._

 _Stevie jumped up from the table and asked Bukowski, "You thought that I was describing what happened to her, right in front of her face and you just… GOADED ME to do it? What is…? I'm sorry," he said to Allie-Ann. "I'll tell the cops for you, or whatever you need…"_

 _Bukowski said, "No, you won't," (It was an order, not a dare) and then went to comfort her. "Beat it, Evans. We'll chat again."_

 _._

Since then, he had asked him for information about the Giardi triplets. He wanted to contact them, but Stevie reminded him that only one was able to be contacted, if he was even still available through his old channels. One of them died a short time ago (he'd seen on the news), and one was on trial.

That was how he had even put together that the Giardis were involved in breaking Allie-Ann… which Stevie ALSO learned wasn't even that girl's damn name! It was a pet name that Bukowski gave her that everyone just started calling her over time. "She's like the opposite of alabaster. Black, dull, and fragile. Alabaster antonym. Allie-Ann. My little ebony pussycat." _Gross._ Stevie realized that Cheerio's habit of saying "gross," rubbed off on him, even if it was simply silent.

"Why not just call her Onyx?"

"Ugh, That sounds like a stripper's name, and I doubt people would have taken to calling her that. Everyone knows her as Allie-Ann. I think we'll change her name to that whenever she's out of here."

"Are you trying to get rid of the last remaining Giardi? Because they hurt your pet?" Stevie had asked.

"Are you kidding? They made it possible for me to even subdue her. Look at her. A woman that gorgeous never would have given me her time or energy. But, here - in her condition, she thinks the world of me."

"How do you assume that? She can't talk!"

"She _doesn't_ talk. There's a difference. I think that it can happen again someday. Whenever your friend Kyle was on TV, she made sounds that sounded like she was gonna form words!"

"Are you trying to get Max to scare her into speaking?"

"Not face to face! He might hurt her. I couldn't risk that. She's perfect. But, if he still has her file, it might help me to get her to respond!"

"Her _file?..._ Wait… you mean the footage of him stalking her and his brothers repeatedly attacking her in the woods?"

"What other file would I be referring to?"

"Can you please stay away from me with basically everything that you plan and say and do? I'm alarmed." Stevie rushed off, but the orderly was watching him. Very closely… and he seemed to be watching _her_ too. Stevie… just couldn't have her ever crossing the mind of such a sick person. But, he definitely couldn't tell her why. That would incriminate him, too. Bukowski knew what he was doing. He had enough on Stevie to easily be able to make him a villain. Hell, Stevie wasn't convinced himself, that he _wasn't_ a villain. Even though he probably was, that just made Bukowski a supervillain and Cheerio was no damsel in distress… but he wasn't gonna let anything happen to her, if he could help it. Especially not anything like Bukowski.

.

Halloween came around and Cheerio wore a costume. She had on a short blond wig, t-shirt, cowboy boots & jeans and kept saying, "Fuckin,'" and brooding all day.

"This ain't fuckin' funny," Stevie said, annoyed but amused by her impressions of him. She couldn't get his voice or his accent quite right, but she gave it her all and her mannerisms were Oscar worthy.

Whenever his family came she dropped the act and tried to rush out of sight. They spotted her though. She kinda was _more_ conspicuous trying not to be seen.

"Stevie… why is your gal dressed like you?" Stacie asked.

"Once again - not mine. And to answer your question, she's a dick. Look at her." Cheerio was peeking from behind things and crawling and such to try not to be seen, and of course, doing the opposite. "Fuckin' idiot."

"Imitation is the highest form of flattery," Sam said.

"I'm not flattered," Stevie said. "Why does she have cowboy boots on? She's never seen me in a single pair!"

"Because you're a cowboy!" Dani said and sat down. "Hi. I'm Cheerio's best friend, Dani."

"Exaggerated title," Stevie said.

"...And I help to keep Stevie in line."

"Just a flat out lie," he said.

"Happy Halloween to you all. See ya at Thanksgiving."

As she got up to leave, he yelled after her, "I didn't invite _you_!"

Sam questioned, "You didn't invite _her?_ Who'd you invite?"

Three Evanses were trying to play off knowing smiles, as Stevie sighed, "Don't think anything of it. Cheerio don't have no family and last holidays, she got depressed and hurt herself. I figured… she could pass by our table, at least. We're all gonna be eating the same trash turkey, anyway. Might as well take a small break with some good people."

"UMMM, no! If you're finally actually introducing your girlfriend to us, I'm bringing our own turkey!" Stacie said.

"Not at all my girlfriend, but I'll never turn down your cooking and she said she probably won't impose, anyway."

Dwight offered, "Well, I think it was still big of you to invite her. But, what will your other gal think?"

Stacie gasped, "His HWAT?"

Stevie shook his head, "That's over. She was too jealous and she was terrorizing my friend. I couldn't have that."

"She WHOM?" Stacie asked.

"Just a girl that I saw for a few months…" Stevie shrugged his shoulders.

Stacie looked upset. "You cheated on Cheerio, for _months_?"

"I've told you probably leaning towards a hundred times that ain't my girlfriend!"

"That's just because you're being stupid! You love that girl, and you know it! And I know it. And this whole family knows it. And she probably knows it!"

Dwight chuckled, "Calm down, Stevie don't need no girlfriend. He's working on himself."

"He can do both," Sam said. "Lord knows I am. God certainly ain't finished working on me yet."

Stevie wondered, "Where _is_ Mercy at?"

"Mercy?" All three of them repeated with wide eyes.

"Shit… Are y'all kiddin'? That ain't her name?" Stevie asked, temporarily alarmed that he may have remembered the whole human incorrectly.

"Yeah, but you always say "Your gal" or "Sammy's gal." You _are_ changing."

"Not good enough," Stevie said, looking at Brody come see Cheri again. He'd better not be there for Thanksgiving…

The others turned and saw the recipient of his glaring. Stacie recognized him and just rubbed Stevie's arm. "Good enough for me, Steves. Good enough for all of us that love you..."


	10. If I Could Only Find a Note to Make You

**If I Could Only Find a Note to Make You Understand**

After the family was gone, Stevie went to find Cheerio, but Bukowski was outside of her bedroom door. "What are you doing?" Stevie asked, suspiciously.

"A job," he said.

"Why are you posted outside of her door?"

"Evans - mind your business. Go have a fruit cocktail or something." Stevie stormed away, around the corner, but then just peeked sporadically to see when she would resurface. Eventually, Brody came out of the room and Stevie found himself approaching him, "What the fuck are you doing still coming here?"

"Giving back," Brody said.

Bukowski ordered, "Take a walk, Evans!" Then escorted Brody out, apologizing for Stevie's shitty behavior.

Meanwhile, Stevie barged into Cheerio's room and saw her in a short bathrobe, admiring her lady parts with a mirror and she jumped, startled and dropped it, fumbling aimlessly not to drop it. But, it didn't break, when she did. "Damn it, Cornflake! You scared the shit out of me AND almost gave me 7 years bad luck! You could've gotten me put on suicide watch." She set her mirror in her drawer, and grabbed some clothes.

He stood outside of the bathroom, red in the face as he tried to find the right words. "Please, don't move on with him. Anybody but him. Please."

"I wasn't planning on it." She got dressed to go back out of the room.

"This is the second time since he left that he's come to see you, and you still keep in touch with him."

"Because we're friends."

"Not all friends get to have Bukowski on door guard while they spend quality time inside the room."

"All mine do. Bukowski is easy to buy. Surette is Mr. No Nonsense. Bukowski is human. He gets the people need a little privacy sometimes…" _That was exactly what Bukowski had said whenever he agreed to allow Stevie and Pendleton to…_

"What were you and Brody doing?"

"I don't think that you'll be able to deal with that information."

"Whatever I imagine will be worst."

"No, I don't think…"

"Did he eat you out? Did he toss your salad? Did he face fuck you?" He peeked into the room, unintentionally seeing her in just her bra and panties - matching, pink, of course, glorious against her skin… She had freckles… Like everywhere… He quickly got out of the doorway and leaned against the wall as she finally answered.

"WHAT? Gross. Face fuck? That sounds painful. God. He knows that they don't allow razors here, so we made arrangements for him to come and help me wax! His company makes all kinds of products that can be safely allowed in spaces like this, but I never pull the strips properly."

"Wax? Like… your legs?"

"And stuff."

"Your pussy?"

"It's been so long since she didn't have an afro!"

"Oh! My! God! THIS IS WORST THAN ANYTHING I COULD IMAGINE!" He banged the back of his head against the wall trying to shake the image of that out of it.

"HOW?"

"Because you trusted a sex addict to come over for no purpose other than to give him access to your pussy and not do something sexual with it! And… he did it! You can't tell me that doesn't subconsciously drive a girl like you wild. You were checking it out when I came in. How wet was it?"

"That's out of line."

"If you ever asked me to wax you, that is not what I would do! I'd be slurping up that afro pussy, letting them pubes exfoliate my nose and shit! I'd stick my tongue all in your butthole and slurp on that too. There is no way you could open your legs in front of me, naked, and not have me tryin' to make you cum all in my face! And not only was he able to not do that, but with his affliction, too? You know that made you feel some kind of way, and yes - that IS worse than actually having some pointless face-riding session!"

"Cornflake… You have to stop talking like that."

"Because it's gross?"

"Because you told me that you have too much going on." She came out of her bedroom, blushing tremendously and avoiding eye contact with him as she gathered her notepad and teddy bear.

Stevie recalled, "You said he was the most beautiful man that you ever saw. You called him an Adonis. You said he was the Vitruvian Man, but with better hair. You said that you couldn't imagine anybody being hotter..."

"You pretended not to hear any of that, so I kept upping the ante, hoping that I'd get you to care again."

"I heard and I remember. So… Please, not him, okay?"

"It's not like that. I'm not interested in anybody else."

"You're still interested in me?"

"Who else would I be interested in? You're my white whale."

He rolled his eyes and took a handful of hair, suddenly frustrated, "You ain't read that long boring ass book!"

"Ugh, so. Did you?"

"Yeah! I had to!"

"You think you're smarter than everybody, just because you actually read books that other people only know from pop culture references! You are so fucking annoying!"

"Stop being a poser, and you won't be offended when you get called out!"

"Take your lover's quarrel to the common room," Bukowski said, returning with folded arms.

Cheerio asked, "Bukowski, did you read Moby Dick?"

"Naw. Nobody actually reads that. They just talk about it like they did, because they've heard commentary on it over the years."

"I read it!" Stevie fussed.

"Well, you're lame; so that doesn't surprise me," Bukowski said.

Stevie and Cheerio headed for the common room, still fussing about whether or not he actually did read the book, whether or not it mattered, and whether or not it had to do with what they were initially talking about. Dani and Myron both rolled their eyes when they arrived, but both Stevie and Cheerio sat down, fuming, folded arms and huffing. Myron asked, "Are… You still being him? Because, you left your costume behind…" Stevie flinched at Myron, like he was going to hit him and Myron let out a shrieking scream and put his hands up in defense.

"WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?" Dani and Cheerio both asked him at the same time.

"I'm fucked up," Stevie said, then got up and left.

"Still terrorizing the minorities, I see," Bukowski said. Stevie clenched his fists and glared at him. "Still threatening to ruin her life, too?"

Stevie stormed off and Surette asked, "We need to sedate Evans?"

"Naw. He's just trying to have a pissing contest. Had to remind him that he's on my turf."

.

Stevie's arms were folded and he marched around the office, nervously fussing. Pepper wasn't going to sit him down, but she asked him to be mindful that his behavior could be seem as a potential threat, if he continued it. He shakily sat down. "Stevie, it is perfectly normal for you to have some new questions about past events. That is the whole point of unpacking - to see what you have stored away in your baggage and to put it wherever it belongs."

"Okay, but have you checked inside of my goddamned baggage?" He scoffed and shook his head, "I got abuse that I didn't even know was supposed to be abuse. I got fucked up shit that I didn't even know was fucked up. How am I supposed to know where this stuff goes?"

"Have you ever considered that maybe you don't have a place for it? You know, some things that are unpacked just need to be thrown out."

He looked both surprised and a but afraid. He finally sat down and wondered, "How do I throw stuff out?"

She smiled sympathetically. "It depends on how heavy it is. If it's something light but useless, all it takes is your will to want it gone and convincing yourself that it means nothing to you. But if it's heavy, it may take longer, because you might need support, enhancement, or growth in strength to even be able to dig it out. That's one of my purposes to help you with that. But you also have family that has expressed to us that they're very supportive and want to help however they can. You also seem to have friends who may be willing to use a bit of their strength when you can't fight your own. I think at least Cheri values your friendship…"

"That doesn't make sense though, right? You know… if I were her, I would never support someone like me. Sure… I'm _trying_ to be a more functional person, but I grew up enveloped in hate and I don't know that I've been fundamentally changed. I definitely have gone through some changes but not complete enough where I think I should be trusted around her. I always worry that I'm gonna do something or say something that is gonna indefinitely drive her completely away. That terrifies me. I'm not used to getting close to anybody. Now I've allowed myself to do it and - I don't know how to keep up this momentum. And someday, she'll see through my artificial and superficial development, and just see the asshole who called her a nigger the first chance he got. Now, I would hurt anybody who ever dared to call her that, but I feel like that doesn't change that _I_ did it, already. That I used that word against her, especially when she was so nice to me."

"Do you ever think about how that word may have affected _other_ people that you used it against, too?"

He fumed, "Now, I guess I will!"

"It's reasonable to consider how anything you say _might_ affect anyone that you say it to. You should endeavor to think before you say something instead of after the damage is done."

"Okay, okay. I see that being a future solution, but I need to figure out how to rectify the shit I've already said."

"I'm sorry that nobody ever taught you to think before you speak. But, there are simply some things that we say that can cause damage that we can't fix. It'll be up to you to speak with whoever you want to settle things with and let them determine whether they forgive you or not."

"And what - if she forgives me, then I just get over it? I just…" he shrugged his shoulders and shook his head, "Go on with my life?"

"Unless there is something else that's holding you back. Do you still have space in your journal?"

"Yeah," he reached for the spiral and opened it.

"Here are some questions that you should ask yourself: What is it that is holding me back from forgiving myself? Who do I want to forgive me? What would I say if I had the opportunity to win that forgiveness?" He wrote the questions at the top of three different pages, to give himself space to write down his answers, after he thought about them, of course. "Do you have any entries that you would like me to read?"

"No. Right now, I'm still working some things out by myself."

"Well, since you were so open with me today, I won't pressure you to let me read anything."

"I could let you read one of my poems, but it might make you blush."

She shook her head, "I think I have enough spice in the emotions you're willing to speak about."

"Most of my poems are about unrequited sexual desire."

"We can discuss it next time, if you want."

.

Cheerio waited patiently for Stevie to come out of his session. She had been trying to get to him all day, but he was depressed and dodging her. He skipped class and was allowed to remain in his room. Whenever she tried to check on him, Nurse Penny sent her away from the door.

His former friend, Kyle Giardi had been found guilty and sentenced to death for killing his mother. Susie Q., Cornflake Sr, and Free Nazi were on the news - with Free Nazi talking to the press about how they were relieved that some portion of that night was over and that justice was found.

"Our family still has a lot of pain to work through, but at least we can have closure on this particular issue."

Cheerio wondered if Stevie felt like he would have any closure.

He had mentioned the triplets a lot. They were some of his closest associates. Hank was a friend of the family. And in one night, all of that had been destroyed and Stevie's future forever altered. He came out of the office and froze when he saw her.

"Not gonna bother you! I wrote you a letter. You can read it, or not, and I will leave you alone, since you seem to want to be alone." She gave him a letter that she had put in an envelope and doodled on.

He smiled softly and sadly. "Thanks." she nodded and went to leave. "Do you think… Can you hang out a while?"

"There's literally nothing more important to me today than you and what you need…" he grabbed her into a hug and she paused, too shocked to respond. He let go and started walking. She followed.

"Do you want me to grab Dani?"

"No. I try not to talk to her about mom stuff. I feel like you're more nurturing with my mom stuff."

"Awwww."

They settled in his room and he took out some photos. They could only keep so many, but he usually stashed them in different journals and things, knowing that if he was behaving that they wouldn't search or anything.

"At one time family photos didn't include Sam. Now, they don't include me… or her. Makes sense, we were always the two least loved there."

"It happens to look like there's a lot of love there for everybody. Even those beasts at your feet."

" _Those beasts?"_

"The boerboels ."

"I figured that you were referring to my babies, but I'm offended by how disrespectful you are about this. Don't fucking play around with Bruiser, Crusher & Smasher!"

"Gross. Why those names?"

"They're guard dogs. I trained them myself!"

"To do tricks?"

"To attack."

"On command?"

"Little this, little that." _There was no way he was about to tell her that his dogs were trained to attack darker skin on sight, in addition to on command. Ugh. He had enough that he would have to answer for. Kyle's verdict and seeing Allie-Ann have emotional reactions to the coverage of it, every time she saw his face and trying to block the TV so she wouldn't have to, then the fact that he had known about the things done to her and other girls, the things like what Sam knew and did. Things that could break people. The thing that had broken her…_

"This girl that used to do pageants with me was a dog enthusiast, and her talent always involved dogs. I didn't have a problem with them at first, but after we ended up in the same dressing space, God - I've hated dogs ever since..."

"What the fuck is wrong with you? What kind of a person doesn't like dogs?"

"What kind of person trains the creatures that they allegedly like to attack?"

"You aren't turning this around on me, this time! Everyone loves dogs. All colors of people. All walks of life!"

"Well, not the millions of people who suffer from pet allergies," she said.

"That's not real," he said, shaking his head.

"It can be manageable, but it DEFINITELY IS real and my first attack was the WORST!" She practically squealed.

He laughed, "Wait… This isn't you just trying to deflect an argument about being a soulless, dog-hating, degenerate? Which, I want to remind you, that you are, because even if you're allergic to dogs, you should feel robbed and cheated that you can't love on any..."

"That girl that I used to do pageants with brought a troop of Akitas that she did an interactive trick performance with as her talent."

"My brother's gal has an Akita! And a German Shepherd."

"I will never go anywhere near her. Those are two of the worst ones for my allergies, and I have hated Akitas SINCE this girl brought them into our prep area and I thought I was going to die! Mind you, I didn't know that I was allergic to dogs. I had never been around a dog that closely. Rhadja thinks animals are filthy and dogs in particular require too much validation."

"Why doesn't that surprise me?"

"It surprised me that you not only cared for but trained three dogs, if we're just going there."

"Okay. So, this girl brought the dogs in and what? You almost died? Justify dog hate to a dog owner. Hint: You can't. We're all gonna blame you and have no respect for you. Did you almost die, though?"

"No. Nothing that severe, though I broke out in hives, my chest, neck and face, my throat was itching and swelled up some, my eyes were so irritated and puffy, I could hardly see for well over two hours. Rhadja thought that somehow, I put on a different brand of makeup that had something that I was allergic in it. But, I have only ever used her products and had a pretty straightforward routine that I followed all of the time! The only thing that was different, was that I had played around with these dogs while I was getting ready, because her station was next to mine and they were so cute! We didn't learn that right away, though. I took some generic medicine, danced with hives and wheezing and crashed after the competition. One of the other mothers asked, just casually, "Well, you aren't allergic to animal dander, or something, are you?" First off - I had never even heard of animal dander. But, whenever Rhadja heard this question posed, she threw a fit about these dogs being allowed to be a part of the pageant and made this huge issue of whether pets were able to be considered part of an act, because they weren't props. So, there was this entire thing about whether or not we could have a partner or assistant for our performances, since the pageant was specifically for the individual. The moms were fussing while the girls were readjusting everything and just trying to make sure that my things got cleaned up and we stayed a distance away from each other that it wouldn't bother me. My next few uncontrollable run ins with dogs were mostly just sneezing and wheezing, little coughing, but not nearly as dreadful as that first time. I stay far away from them. I'm a pretty healthy girl. I work out, I have pep and energy. Allergies slow me down and make me feel improper in my chest and head. I don't like it. And unless they're service dogs, people's dogs almost always try to come up to me, and people get so damned offended when I ask them to please keep their pets away from me and under control. Nobody likes hearing that you don't consent to their goddamn dogs being all on you! And if it licks me, I'm gonna lose my shit. I slapped a girl because her dog licked me after she was slow to get him off of me."

"So, if we both somehow made it out of here, you wouldn't come over to my home, because I have dogs."

"No. And you wouldn't come over to mine either, for the same reason. I don't even want a strand of dog hair in my presence."

"That's harsh."

"You don't have to like it. We're not gonna be friends outside of here, anyway." He frowned. "Tell me that I'm lying. Tell me that the fan mail that you get from other people willing to take you in when you're free doesn't sound like a warm and cushy fallback when you leave here?"

He just frowned harder. He had considered it and hated saying that she was right. Instead, he just noted, "I'm not ever getting out of here, so none of it matters."

She looked sad for him, but cleared her throat and put the photo down. "I don't believe that. I think you made some mistakes and that you did things that you aren't proud of. I know that no matter how old or how normal people are - everybody makes mistakes and does things that they aren't proud of. I don't think it's fair that we're expected to feel more shame than anybody else because we're sick and have trouble functioning in the same ways. In fact, I think that the people outside ought to be the main ones who feel bad about the things that they do. They're supposed to be alright. They're supposed to be the standard. They're just as fucked up and nowhere near getting better, because admitting that there's a problem is the first step." He chuckled and pushed his photos aside to crawl over to her and rest his head on her lap. "Oh!"

He glanced up, "Is this okay?" She nodded her head and he adjusted, turning to face her, with his nose tucked in between her thighs, and laid on his belly with his arms around her waist. Her pulse accelerated and she dared to touch his hair. He took a deep breath, squeezed her tighter and made a small noise of satisfaction. His hands slid up the back of her shirt and he rubbed her back while he rested.

Bukowski peeked in and folded his arms. "The verdict finally came out from the trial of the guy who killed his mom. He just needs a friend around, right now."

The orderly sighed and asked, "Need me to monitor, Evans?"

"No!" Stevie snapped.

"Sorry about your friend," Bukowski said.

"I mean, he was hardly his friend. The motherfucker killed his mother…"

"Yeah, I just meant… whatever. I saw the way they made their case. You mom must have been some kind of saint, huh? Never did anything but love her family too much. So sad that some monster killed her like that."

Cheerio strummed Stevie's hair and said, "She was no angel, if you're trying to be slick. But, nobody deserves to just be shot and have to die in front of their kids like that. Nobody deserves to have to see it. And, I don't think he wants to talk about it." She forced a smile. Bukowski returned a forced one, too, before leaving.

"I fucking hate him."

"I noticed. You're never gonna tell me why, are you?"

Stevie changed the subject, sort of, "If we do ever get out of here, the main reason that we wouldn't be friends is because I would be scared that would make you a target." He squeezed her. "People might come after me. I don't want nobody coming after you. I want you to have all that shit that you danced about in art therapy. I don't know that you can do that and be my friend."

"Okay… But, you don't know that I _can't,_ either." He stroked his hands across her skin and fell to sleep. Hours later, when he woke up, she was gone and he was incredibly sad. That had been literally the best sleep that he had had since he was a kid, and particularly lately, he had been having nightmares about her being hurt by the triplets, lik Allie-Ann, or like St. James' guys hurt Aphasia… He sat up and noticed that her letter was still there. She had put it on the nightstand. He didn't know how close to dinner time it was or group, or… what time it was, period. He opened her letter and noticed it smelled like her perfume.

 _Dear Steven James Evans,_

 _You are a real person. You aren't some idea or some concept. You don't have to make yourself marketable or consumable. All you need to do is know that your feelings are valid and your humanity is relevant. However you're feeling about all of this stuff that is happening with your family, your old friends, whatever is happening inside of you isn't something that you have to hide from anybody or try to destroy. You should instead share what you can't handle alone and whatever you can handle alone - you don't have to do it right away, okay? Just… Take care of yourself. There are people who truly care about you and we honestly don't care what you've done. We just want you well. You have three relatives, that blind bombshell, Dani, and me… And that is more people than I've ever had in my life actually care about me at one time. If you need me, I will be around as much as this staff allows. You are so important, Cornflake. I mean that. I lost family. I've lost friends. I want you to be a new constant. Like, when you learn a new artform, or acquire a new piece of art. You're an artform and you're the artwork._

 _Love,_

 _Cheri Charming Robinson, Your friend_

Stevie cried and stuck it back in the envelope, then took it out and read it again. He read it a lot of times, then he started carrying it around with him.

.

Cheerio shimmied over to the table with her Thanksgiving basket that her parents sent. "Guess what I procured for the two of you for this fine holiday?" She reached into it and pulled out a small can of caviar. "With all the little fixings, or at least as closely as we can get to them in a gift basket."

Dani gasped and snatched it from her hand, "OMG! I am SO excited about this!"

Stevie shook his head, "I don't want none of that junk!"

Cheerio nodded, "Yeah, it's not the best quality, but I'm super thankful anyway, because this means that my mother must either be reading my letters or somebody is reading them and they have given them approval to send me my request!" She was so excited for possible scraps of concern from her parents.

Dani had gotten into the can and opened a bag of buttered toast crackers and dug in. "This is good!" she cheered.

"Try some, Cornflake!"

"No. That looks gross."

"You told me that you went hunting and bit a deer heart! This is a thousand times less gruesome," Dani said, digging out another cracker full.

Cheerio dug out some with a couple of her fingers and sucked it off. Dani dropped the crackers and Stevie's lip dropped. Cheerio licked her lips and nodded her head, "It's not bad for cheap stuff." She dug her two fingers into it again and extended it to Stevie. His heart was pounding and he felt like he was panting. Something about the way that she looked and that she had just fully displayed her tongue.

Dani said, in a soft whimper, "If you don't go for it, I am gonna!"

Stevie elbowed her, then leaned forward a little and let Cheerio bring her hand closer to him. He ate it off of her fingers, sucking and licking on them a little more than necessary. "Omg, this is hot," Dani whispered. "Happy Thanksgiving to Dani."

Cheerio gently pulled her fingers away, "What did you think?" She asked.

"Delicious," he breathed out, staring at her in wonder. He cleared his throat and got up, "Gotta… be right back." He rushed off and Cheerio sat down.

"He's gonna go jerk off and think about sucking your fingers."

"If he's gonna jerk off, I'm sure that he'll have other things he can think about."

"Were you tryin' to make him all hot and bothered?"

"Yeah. I'm trying to make sure that he kisses me at Midnight on New Year's Day, but you know he'd been distant worrying about those trials. Now, they're all done, so nothing should be holding him back, unless that was more lies. So, I'm gonna go for it, again. Is that stupid? That's probably stupid."

"He's the stupid one. I'd have put hickies all over your chest by now. Know that you chose the wrong one!"

"Dani… You're _bi_ right?"

"If you are asking me if I find men and women both sexually attractive, yes. If you are asking me if I would ever in my life ever try to have a relationship with a man, no. They're so scary. They're more dangerous, statistically. Most of the abuse I've suffered was at the hands of men and I just don't prefer them. The hygiene difference alone is annoying. Then add the privilege, the entitlement, the microaggressions, and I am head over heels with being single."

"I was just wondering if… I would have anything to worry about, from you."

"Anything to worry about?"

"Do you want Cornflake?"

"Oh God, no! There have never been two more just friends people than the two of us. Go for it, Sister. Stick a titty in his mouth, next time. Do whatever you must."

.

Stacie literally brought in a turkey and fixings. Stevie was waiting, nervously, by himself. Dani and Cheerio were allowed to go see Chase (and they told him that they were gonna try to see if he was able to or willing to come back to their ward). He was really worried about what he might say, but semi-trusted that if Dani noticed him possibly suggesting anything that she might turn the convo around. All three Evanses were carrying dishes and Mercedes was latched on to Sam's arm.

They set a table and took seats. When Stacie was about to ask where Cheerio was, she and Dani appeared. She looked… off. Dani looked worried. He felt fear coursing all throughout his body. _She knew._ "Hey," he said, cutting them off. She frowned at him with her lip quivering. Dani shook her head and moved along. She went to the table and reintroduced herself to Stevie's family while he and Cheerio went aside.

"They… fight a lot, don't they?" Stacie asked.

"I think it's their love language."

"After literally WEEKS of me getting Dr. Pepper to talk about consent to the group?!" Cheerio said loudly. Stevie was trying to keep things low. "I can't believe I was gonna try to give you dessert tonight!" She stormed off and he lowered his head, glanced at the family, then went after her.

Dani explained, "No offense… You have a fucked up family member. I mean, all of us are, but he's… a lot. Sometimes, the fighting is Cheerio's fault. She can be a real cunt," She fixed a plate, "But, this time, Cornflake is definitely the cause. If you have other people to mold in the future, do everything completely opposite. I love him and everything, but he's absolutely defective," and left their table.

"Wow," Sam said. "Did she ever actually get invited?"

Stacie said, "I don't know, but I'll be back." She went in the same direction that Stevie and Cheerio had vanished in. She found him crying on her shoulder and her comforting him. She hid, but tried to keep spying on them. After a while, Stevie cleared his face up, with Cheerio wiping his eyes and fanning him. They headed back towards the cafeteria, and Stacie turned and dashed towards the room, too. They saw her. "You see how ridiculous she looks? That's almost as stupid as you looked trying not to be seen on Halloween."

"I was faking. I utterly wanted to be seen." They came back to the table and Cheerio explained, "I am so sorry for my outburst, earlier. If I was balanced, I wouldn't be in this place. Hope that I didn't offend anybody with my volatile stuff. Stevie was kind enough to find me and try to help me calm down." She forced a smile and Stacie raised an eyebrow. That wasn't what she had witnessed, but okay.

Stevie said, "This is Cheerio, everybody. Don't bother introducing yourselves, she will not remember anybody's single name, unless it's a part of a ship name."

"Samcedes is one of my favorites!" she cheered, sitting down.

"HOW?" Stevie asked.

"I watch TV. I see interviews," she said, looking at him like he was clueless. "But, I haven't seen you in as many appearances, Miss Mercedes."

Mercedes turned her head towards the voice and nodded, "Yeah, it gets to be a bit much, traveling with my condition."

She gasped, "Are you preggers?"

"She's blind! You _know_ that!"

"I didn't know that blind people couldn't travel!" Cheerio defended.

Mercedes said, "I can, but it gets hard when it's frequent. I'm just comfortable in my usual surroundings."

"Awwww," Cheerio said.

Stacie asked, "Want me to make you a plate. Your best friend already did." Cheerio looked in front of Stevie, wondering what Susie Q was talking about.

"Dani told them that she was your best friend," Stevie said. Cheerio cackled. "RIGHT?" He said.

Cheerio sniffled, "Oh my God. She's precious. I do love her, very much. Cornflake is my best friend. Then Myron. _Then_ Dani. And… I don't know… Those are the only friends I have now." She looked frustrated for a moment and Stevie quickly said, "I'll fix you a plate, since I know what you eat." He got up and Stacie held her hands out. "Oh, yeah - I should have told you, she ain't gonna eat none of this. Too much butter, too much fat, too much everything that's good. She hates food."

"I'm used to eating like a gymnast," she said. "This place rarely has the right combination of nutrients for me. Fortunately, I'm just trying to return to cheering and maybe dance, right now."

"Oh, my God! Your videos are so wonderful!" Stacie said.

"My videos?"

"Your dance videos," she said. "I love the one with the pink peacock outfit."

"Oh… That was actually a carnival theme outfit, like they do in the islands. Jeesh… Where did you find that?"

"Stevie pulled it up on my phone a while back." Dwight and Sam were both trying to gesture to Stacie to stop this. "I favorited some of them. I like that one and the one with the yellow carnival outfit."

"We were talking about that not too long ago. I had to perform medicated and having an allergy attack."

"REALLY?"

"I thought I was gonna die. My lungs were ready to collapse. How… many of them did you see?"

"I think Stevie watched like… 8 or 9. I kinda just looked over his shoulders."

"When was this?" Cheerio asked.

"Oooh, I don't know. When was that, Daddy?"

"Months ago, but onto more important things, how is Stevie handling things?"

"He's doing fine. I've tried to validate his feelings and be here for him. It was a rough patch there. He broke up with his girlfriend, we lost a friend - he was sent to another ward, and also the trials were stressful for him. He's… the best that I've ever seen him around you all." She winced, "That's not to say that he's usually in a much worst mood when you're here than he is when you're not here."

"Good save," Sam said. She frowned at him. "I was just giving you a hard time. We know it's hard for Stevie to see us."

"You, in particular," she said.

Stacie asked, "What about me?"

"You're literally the light of his life. He does hate you coming here to see him, but he remembered how disconnected you felt when the family couldn't see his brother, so he allows these visits. NOT TO SAY THAT HE HATES THEM!"

She covered her face, flustered and Stevie returned with a plate of salad that he had put the appropriate toppings on. "What did I walk in on?"

"My foot all up in my mouth," she said, took her plate, sighed and went to join Dani.

"What did y'all do? I left for a few minutes!" He fussed.

"Stacie made her uncomfortable," Sam said.

"Oh yeah? That's what we're doing?"

"You didn't notice how nervous it made her that y'all were watching her dance videos?"

"WHAT? How did THAT come up?" Stevie asked.

"Stacie just offered it up," Sam said, laughing. Stevie put his hands in his face. "Bro - it's fine. Y'all are teenagers. Everything is awkward and embarrassing. This is the most normal you've seemed in over a year!"

"You've seen me seven times, so how would you know?" Stevie asked, suddenly in a terrible mood. Stacie rubbed his shoulder. Mercedes frowned, but kept silent. Stevie looked over at Allie-Ann. She had a sister there with her and a grandmother. Bukowski wasn't far away, but wasn't at the table. He wondered how they felt about him - if he gave off a vibe or ever even interacted with them. He realized that everybody was looking at him. "What?"

"I was just wondering what the fight was about. The first girl insisted that it was your fault, then the second girl came and said it was hers," Mercedes said, softly.

Stevie sighed, "The second girl is extremely biased. It was completely my fault and I don't want to say more than that."

"Okay. Do you hate when we visit?" she asked.

"I hate the official nature of the visits. It always feels like those parent/principal conferences that I had to have every time I got in a fight at school - like nobody wants to be there, but thanks to my fucked up decisions, here we all are."

"None of us blame you for what happened. It just showed us how much help you needed and that we didn't realize. And you said that you feel better in here, so it's helping, right?" Stacie asked.

He shrugged his shoulders, "Sometimes. Did Cheerio tell you that I hate it when you visit?"

"She didn't mean to. It sounded kind of like she was concerned for you and accidentally babbled a few things. She really, REALLY seems to care about you."

"Yeah. I think she does. She's not a bright girl."

"Don't do that," Mercedes asked. "Don't insult both of you just to deny feelings. That's small, Stevie. I think you know that for whatever reason, whatever you've got going on is working."

"Why are we all talking about me?"

"Well, we're visiting you and you're the one that we thought we were doing this for. If it isn't helping, we need to know," Sam said.

"You're not part of the conversation," Stevie said, waving a hand.

"Same commentary, then," Stacie said.

Stevie sighed, "I think I would be fine with less visits. I have to put on a whole facade when y'all come…"

"You don't…"

"I don't? I don't have to seem like I'm okay? Because the times that I haven't been able to pull it off have been spent with y'all pressing me to speak about shit I obviously don't want to speak about. And casually, when I'm fine, pressing me about shit that I obviously am trying to handle on my own. Y'all don't respect my feelings. I don't feel validated from y'all." He took a deep breath, "And now I feel shitty for telling you that I feel that way, even though my humanity is relevant, because I know that y'all are trying!" He clenched his fists, put his face on them and tried to catch his breath.

Then, he felt her hands, slide onto his shoulders. He touched them with his own hands and leaned back to rest against her.

"Hey, Friend," she said, and smiled down at him. "Need me to clear the table or bring you some water, or anything?"

"No, thanks. Thank you."

She gave him a pat on the shoulder and said, "Heading back to Dani's. Wanna meet us when you're done?"

"Duh. Fuckin' idiot."

She shoved his head, playfully. "It was nice meeting all of you. Happy Thanksgiving!" She and Dani left, with Dani, looking at him concerned and wondering too loudly if he'd be okay if they "left him with them?" Cheerio just pulled her away, by the sleeve.

"Well… I guess we know how you feel, now. Thank you. Thanks for… letting us know," Stacie said, got up, about to cry and started packing up the table.


	11. I'd Sing It Softly in Your Ear

_Correction: I foundt more black people in the Glee extras on IMDB, so I can give Allie-Ann a FC and even a name. Probably gonna use most of those other extras for Book of Matthew, though. At any rate, I realize that I wasn't necessarily clear about the functions of this institution, so I'll try to naturally tell how it operates instead of hitting y'all with a huge description/explanation about how some of the things go._

 **I'd Sing It Softly in Your Ear**

Chase decided to stay in the more private ward of the building, more afraid to have to see Stevie again after admitting to Dani and Cheerio the truth about how he wound up getting caught with Pendleton and facing sexual assault penalties (which ultimately the investigation decided that it was not a case of that, on his part). Pendleton's parents checked her out of the place and brought her elsewhere, threatening to sue (but ultimately never did.

Another doctor was sent in to assess those in the youth ward and assist with making some necessary changes to try to ensure that another incident like that one did not take place. Firstly, they decided to put in more cameras and hire someone to man them, at all times. Then, they would activate more alarms between corridors, so that only personnel with badges could go undetected. Next, they started a spreadsheet, that the staff could access from their phones and laptops in order to check off accounted for residents while doing their rounds. "It isn't that we feel like you dropped the ball. It's simply a stressful environment sometimes, with so many teenagers in one spot that it is not uncommon to let some of the least troubled slip between the cracks. Chase Madison had never had any type of disruption or attack. The most trouble related to him had been nervously crying whenever strangers came into the building for the holidays. It was easy to lose track of him, because he doesn't misbehave and whenever he feels threatened or worried, he retreats to his room and doesn't cause trouble. But, if we had someone mark on the spreadsheet that he was in his room during rounds, it would have been more difficult for him to end up in the corridor with the young lady." Dr. Rupert Campion said.

Surette folded his arms and sighed, "Are we going to separate the teenagers and the young adults in the common room?"

"I don't see a need to do so."

"Madison spent most of his time with the teenagers. I think that he probably saw them as peers and that's how he wasn't able to outline that he legally can't touch a teenage girl."

"Well, he legally can't touch any girl or woman, here," Dr. Pepper reminded them. "I speak to the teenagers about consent. We've spoken at length about what constitutes as such. I generally don't handle the young adult residents, but hopefully, they've gotten some lessons about this, as well." She glanced at Dr. McIntosh.

Dr. McIntosh said, "We don't speak about consent, in general - as this has never been an issue for any of the young adults. Even in this instance, we have already learned that the teenage girl made the advances at my patient, so excuse me, Dr. Pepper - perhaps your at lengths conversations are not well carried out."

Dr. Campion interrupted what was certainly about to become an argument to say, "The only change that they'll probably need to get used to is leaving the common room going in a different direction. With the new alarm systems in tact, unless someone is escorting them through that corridor, they won't be able to go through without setting it off."

"Will it be locked?" Bukowski asked.

"Absolutely not - fire safety hazard."

"So, we basically have to be prepared for probably weeks of them accidentally setting off the alarm and almost surely freaking themselves out when they do?" he asked as a follow up.

Dr. Campion smiled and shook his head, "I've considered that, Mr. Bukowski, and no. We'll have reminder signs that indicate that only staff should go through the doors. If they don't or can't read it, and they still go through and not deactivate the alarm with a badge (as all of the staff will be able to do), the alarm buzzes at the nurse's station and an available nurse or an orderly checks it out, to make sure it's just a little accident. At that point, gently remind the resident that this door has an alarm now, for their safety and to please take the alternate route next time. That's what you might have for a few weeks, but I would rather that any day than the call that a resident has possibly been sexually assaulted in one of our facilities."

One of the orderlies from the delinquency center wondered, "Will the cameras be inside of the rooms of the residents?"

Campion shook his head, "No, no. We don't want to impede on privacy in that way, but if we have any trouble from someone in particular, we may, for a time install surveillance on them, just until we can ensure safety for everyone."

"I work with the criminals," he said. "We have trouble from everybody in particular."

"Well, from my records, that division is more abundantly staffed and there is more security and order…" He faced the others, "That is not to say that the non-threatening division is too lax. We simply… tend to seem to have a few more issues coming out of this end right now than we do with the delinquents."

Surette complained, "We have at least two violent criminals in the teenager ward, right now, and not to be a whiner, I _do_ often feel like my associates don't take it seriously enough."

Bukowski said back, "Just because we don't roughhouse the residents like you do?"

"Because _some of us_ get a little to friendly with the residents, instead of just making sure that they're doing what they're supposed to."

"But, which of us has gotten more complaints?"

"Complaints aren't indicative of a bad job!"

"Yours are. You shoved the Robinson girl and she almost pressed charges on you!" Bukowski fussed.

"You hug people. It's fucking weird!" Surette snapped, right back.

"Calm down, please. Let me just say this - in no way, shape, or form should our staff be allowed to touch the residents, unless we have to move them for their own safety, or they are not capable of it for whatever reason, or something of that nature. Shoving and hugging, in my professional opinion, are both completely inappropriate. Especially considering that you both work with teenagers," Campion scolded.

"Teenagers and young adults," Surette and Bukowski said at the same time.

Bukowski added on, "And they are huggy people. A lot of them have been hurt or harmed and they now feel comfortable enough to reach out and offer affection. I'm not gonna shut them down, if they've made such progress. Nobody is going to hug the person that grabs them by the arm and forces them out of their room because the schedule says it's time to eat." He glared at Surette.

Campion said, "I want to speak with both of you at the closing of this meeting," then changed the subject back to the changes that he expected to see in the building.

Before leaving, Dr. Pepper said, "My kids insisted that I ask you this - because the one person who was responsible for getting CD privileges has left the facility, will they be allowed to have CDs again?"

Dr. Campion chuckled, "I am going to say let's see how they handle some of the other changes first.

.

"The new doctor is super cute!" Cheerio observed.

"I don't think he's new. I think he's their boss or something and has to stop in because of the shitstorm," Dani said.

"Ain't he kinda late?" Stevie asked.

"Everything here happens slowly. It's a very poorly run establishment," Dani said, then told Myron, "No offense."

"None taken. It isn't my uncle's fault this place is this way. Their budget sucks, the board is only ever concerned if there is a scandal, and many of the practices that they have set in place are outdated, but the same old dudes keep deciding that it still works. He does his best with what he has to work with."

"Some offense, he's bad at hiring people," Stevie said.

"Everything that you say is offensive, so you don't even have to give a disclaimer," Myron said. "But, I can see how you would feel that way. Most of your interactions are with orderlies, because you can't control your temper."

"Bukowski said that they would have a couple more, so that they could cover more ground," Cheerio said.

"Why are you always talking to him?" Stevie asked.

"He's the one that talks to us. You can't ask Surette _anything_ without him getting pissy, and the nurses take their jobs too seriously to ever be straight up. Bukowski is the weakest link."

Dr. Campion, Surette, Bukowski and the two new orderlies were walking around, using their phones and talking (well, Campion was instructing the others) about the protocol. They passed by the four teenagers, leaning against the wall and Surette asked, "Why are you four not in the common room?"

"Why are you always harassing folks?" Cheerio asked.

Dr. Campion paused, smiled and reached out to shake her hand, "Hi. I am Dr. Rupert Campion. I represent the board and I am here to make things better and easier for you to prevent conditions that we recently realized that we might have dropped the ball about." She shook his hand and asked, "Are you being condescending, or are you actually going to fix the problems with this place?"

"I wouldn't dare condescend to the people that keep me employed. My job is to make sure that this environment works in your favor, and your favor, and your favor, and… yours… Myron?"

"Hi, Dr. Campion," Myron said.

"I didn't realize that you were here," Campion said.

"That is a terrible start," Dani snickered. "He's one of the residents that you work for?" She held out her hands.

Campion simply smiled, "Well, I certainly hope that I do better along the way. Miss Robinson, correct? I couldn't help but to notice that you had a complaint with Mr. Surette."

"Could you notice how rude he asked us why we're not in the common room?"

"I hadn't, but now that you've pointed it out, I'm certainly going to see if we can't do something about his people interaction skills. Do you trust me to handle that?"

"You look pretty trustworthy. But, it might be a ruse. You've got great teeth and obviously have had to have at least some type of training in building rapport. I'll allow it. I trust you to handle it. Don't let me down."

"I'll do my best. Now that we've tackled that portion of the problem, do you think that you could maybe tell _me_ why you young people are posted out here?" He asked, smiling.

Cheerio shrugged her shoulders, "We were curious and nervous about some of the changes. You see… Chase was our friend. We don't get to really see him anymore, and we were worried that what happened with him was going to change how much we're able to see friends and stuff."

"Well, I can assure you, whatever changes we make are going to be our best efforts of improving things. I would really appreciate it if you all could report either to the common room, cafeteria, or one of your rooms, with the door open, of course."

"We can hang out in our rooms, now?" Dani asked, "I mean… legally. We definitely were already doing it, but we're not gonna get wrangled out by Manhandle McGee over here?"

Campion hid his displeasure of yet another reference to Surette being aggressive with the residents and told them, "Let this be a verbal contract between us, okay? You can definitely hang out in your rooms, granted the door is open and that you aren't doing anything against policy when rounds are made." He said under his breath, "How it should have been in the first place…"

Cheerio squealed and hopped up and down. "My room! My room! My room!" She, Dani and Myron rushed off.

Campion said, "Steven Evans. How are you fitting in at this facility?"

"Not well," Stevie said. "But, most of them seem to be doing their best." He cut his eyes towards Bukowski and dropped them to the floor. Surette and Campion both noticed the look, but only Surette looked at Bukowski to read his reaction to it.

Campion simply didn't lose step, "And how do you feel about your best? Are you doing it?"

"I was put here because I killed somebody. I haven't killed anybody since, so I'd say that I'm at the very least not at my worst."

"Not at your worst is a pretty good start. Hopefully we can raise those goals."

"Being at a 'good start' a year in seems like a bad start, but if you have hope, who am I to crush it?" Stevie asked.

"Well, maybe you need a restart. Some of us require more than others. I'll talk to you soon, see if we can't get some bearings on that," he continued with his walk with the orderlies and Stevie turned to see Cheerio and the others waiting for him, curiously.

He met up with them, "Y'all know that nobody seriously lets the murderer just wander around without question, right? Expect spontaneous interrogations whenever you're with me. They're probably tryin' to figure out if they shouldn't throw my ass in juvie ward."

"They would have done it by now," Myron confidently said. "The sole purpose of Dr. Campion's presence is damage control and public relations. He hasn't had an actual official patient in years."

"He mentioned talking to me," Stevie said.

Myron paused and covered his heart with his hands, "As a doctor?"

"I don't know. Sounded like it."

"You are far less excited about this than you should be!" Myron told him.

"You're too excited, for somebody that's probably about to be dealt with as a conflict of interest. You did notice the slight dip in his eyebrows when he realized that you were a patient here, right?" Stevie asked.

"The slight dip in… No, I did not."

"It's his only tell, I think. He's super good at not reacting to things. Years in institutions, I guess. But, he had no idea that the Director of this building had a relative residing here and he probably doesn't like that."

Now, Myron covered his heart for a completely different reason, "Do you think that he'll make me leave? Or worst… make my uncle leave?"

Stevie shrugged his shoulders and flopped down on Cheerio's bed, glanced around and saw her leaving the room. _Where the hell was_ she _going?_

Cheerio had been waiting for this day. And without access to a computer for personal use, she had to write each thing down twice, whenever she ran into an issue. This Dr. Campion could have one of those recordings. She went to find him and he smiled, when she approached, "Now, Miss Robinson. You told me that you would relax in your room."

"Yes! I am heading back. I just wanted you to have this. I am not so naive or gullible as to think that you will address every single line, or so ignorant that I don't realize that you already have your own list of priorities… But, also - you don't live here, and I do. I have for almost two years, now. That is a ridiculous amount of time to be in a place like this, made even more ridiculous by some of the things that I have recorded on these pages. I have another copy, for myself, but this one was for the first person who seemed to actually care that this place isn't too great."

He accepted the notepad from her with _Where This Place Got It All Wrong_ written on the front. He smiled and nodded, "Thank you. Now, where are you heading?"

"Straight to my room, with the door open and gonna not break rules."

"Thank you."

When she left, Surette said, "She's pushy, but she's a good kid," at almost the same time that Bukowski said, "She is such a brat."

"She is a resident, and entitled to our fair and decent treatment," Dr. Campion told them.

.

This year, for Christmas, Dr. Pepper wanted the youth to do a Christmas presentation as their art therapy assignment. Cheerio designed and sent out an order for a Christmas cheer costume, with her name embellished in bling. It basically looked like one of those "Sexy Clause" costumes, with Cheerio across the back and she called her alter-ego "Christmas Cheer." She made cards for everyone and went passing them out, dressed up like that, to "spread Christmas cheer." Stevie wanted soooooo fucking badly to make fun of her, but her previous Christmas was hard and he couldn't abide tearing her down for trying to distract herself from the fact that her parents had been throwing money at her this entire stay, but she had not heard their voices nor seen their faces.

Dani organized a Christmas carol choir. They were awful, but she roped Stevie into singing a few songs, so at least they would have him and her able to sing.

Myron made protest signs that he would not be forced into celebrating Christmas. Dr. Pepper told him that he could do something Hanukkah related, but he said, "Protesting anti-semitism is a huge part of my culture and I want to focus on that tradition this holiday season."

Stevie refused to even do that. "I don't believe in God, Christ, Christmas, holidays, or presentations. Art therapy is supposed to allow us to express ourselves artistically. I can't do that if the theme is Christmas."

Dr. Pepper sighed, "You can do Saturnalia, if you want."

"I ain't pagan, either. I don't believe in none of that."

"You can do something that speaks about the falseness of it that you seem to be so passionately about."

"I didn't mean to seem passionate. I'm not. It's a bastardized holiday that was stolen during imperialism and has since been marketed for mass capitalization. It's fucked up, but I'm not passionate."

"What about doing something that shows how your family celebrates it, even though you don't?"

"No! None of this would be me expressing myself. If you just want an art project, I'll put on an impromptu puppet show about how you fuckin' insisted I create some bullshit, even though we aren't _graded_ on this and it can't possibly affect my real life!" SO, she left it at that.

Whenever the families came on Christmas and saw their presentations, it was a beautiful gift to all of them. Stevie sat with his family and handed them all apology letters for how harsh he had been last time. That was the extent of his "presentation."

Dani and Myron were posted at the door, waving Myron's signs while a nurse stayed nearby to softly explain, "This is their artistic expression."

Cheerio had gotten her wax two days prior, and her costume was adorable, sexy, flirty, fun and full of cheer. Still, she just wanted to cry. She had been going around 'spreading Christmas cheer' and handing out tokens of appreciation. All that her parents had sent was this costume she asked for. She didn't even get a gift basket from them. She had made her face up and was clean and prettied… But, she felt so sad and lonely. Stevie didn't trust his family around her, because the few minutes that she was with them on Thanksgiving, she'd said too much and now she felt responsible for tension with them. She honestly didn't want to make it any worse, or even worse than that… have to be a part of it. So, she spent her time in her room, with the door open, pretending that she didn't see Nurse Sandy passing by casually (way more often than the rounds dictated), probably to make sure she wasn't in there trying to kill herself.

She only left the room so that Sandy could rest. She stopped at the protest and glitterbombed Dani and Myron. "Paraphernalia! Paraphernalia!" Dani howled.

Cheerio laughed and kept going. Stevie looked extremely uncomfortable and his family was kind of quiet. She went to the table, took a deep breath, readied her pageant smile and her cheery voice and cheered, with a giggle, "Merry Christmas Evans Family!"

Stacie's eyes went wide and she got up to hug her, "Oh my Lord, you are ADORABLE! This is so cute! And your pretty face. You are something else, girl. Did you do this yourself?"

"Kidding? They don't let me touch hot glue, or anything sewing related. I had to order it, but I did design it." She smiled brightly, feeling better with Susie Q's compliments.

"I brought you a gift," she said and handed her a gift basket of beautifully holiday decorated chocolate covered strawberries. "I was told it is definitely a thing that you would eat!" Stacie said, worried at Cheerio's pause. She had been craving them, but didn't want to ask for any, because she had asked for a lot in the past few weeks, she felt like and just wanted to write general stuff to her folks, instead of continuously asking them for stuff. So, she was gonna do without them.

"Got tired of your whining," Stevie said, hiding a smirk.

Cheerio shook her head, leaned over to him, put her mistletoe bracelet above their heads and gave him a lipstick print on the cheek. He turned so red that it almost blended in (wrong shade, though). "Thank you, Susie Q.I was really sad and this honestly made my day…"

"Cheerio!" Sandy sang out. She turned around and headed for the nurse.

She gave her some news that caused her to shriek, jump up and down and rush to the nurses' station. Stevie watched as they handed her an extravagant gift basket that he was pretty sure must have come from her folks, from her reaction. She could hardly carry it, so he said, "Be right back," and rushed over to try to help her.

Stacie looked at her own gift and said, "I guess he can give it to her, later."

"This from your parents?" Stevie asked, hoisting the basket up.

"Yes! I honestly thought that it would be like last year, where they did nothing and told me on the anniversary of me being here that they were trying to give me a year without them to find myself." He frowned. She gasped and suddenly remembered his gift. She rushed to go grab it, thanked Stacie again, and brought it to her room with the rest. She wanted to dive into it, but she remembered how down Stevie looked before she came to the table, so she went back with him to gather with his family. Stacie took a lot of photos and promised to send her copies of them. Stevie was extremely quiet, but at least seemed content.

Every Evans definitely noticed that he was much more grounded and relaxed after his gal was there than he had been earlier, and than he had been for their past visits. "Maybe your little darlin' should sit in on the visits every time," Dwight suggested.

Stevie scoffed, "She don't wanna do that shit." _I don't even wanna do it half the time._

Cheerio smacked her teeth, "What are you talking about? This party was trash before I arrived!"

"This ain't no party," he reminded her. "It's a supervised parents day in the cafeteria, like we're in elementary school."

"You got your family. I got a freakin' basket."

"You got caviar for Thanksgiving. I can't even imagine what's in your Christmas basket."

"Caviar? Wait… Are you rich, Girl?" Stacie asked.

Cheerio laughed and cleared her throat, "My parents have a little money."

Stevie stole Dani's words, "You know that BIIIIIIG white house with all the different pink flowers all around it looking like in Alice in Wonderland when they paint?"

"Those were RED!" Cheerio and Stacie both said at the same time. "Thank you!" Cheerio said. "There's 16 different pink flowers growing there, if they've had the gardener keep up with them."

"I know that _mansion_ ," Dwight said. "The Robinson Estate, right?" She nodded. "So… You're not just rich, you're…" He nodded his head and raised his eyebrows. "Not to be a wet blanket…"

"Oh my God, please don't say nothing else," Stevie said.

"Just… Wonderin' what your parents think of Stevie," Dwight said. Stevie glared at him. _The exact opposite of not sayin' nothin' else._ "I mean… Your family is one of those families that can make or break this place, right? My son comes from a humble background and we're simple people."

" _We're_ kids!" Stevie reminded him, "Nobody needs this _what are your intentions_ bullshit, like we're gettin' married or something."

"We're just friends," Cheerio said, cheerfully. "Cornflake and I are friends until we get out, basically."

"Just friends," Stacie repeated, not convinced or impressed.

Cheerio explained, "Well, I'm the kind that wants to have a huge fancy wedding and children and a yard to sunbathe and dance in. Stevie wants no marriage, no kids, and to make movies. We're not even gonna date on our standards, alone."

Dwight furrowed his eyebrows and said, "You're back to talking about making movies?"

"I don't have a reason to go into real estate or property management, seeing as how I no longer am a puppet. And, I'm definitely not getting a baseball scholarship now, so I don't really have a reason or means to go to college. Might as well do something that I'll love and will probably be good at."

"He's an amazing script writer, and I've seen him make some pretty impressive puppet shows out of them." His family looked disappointed, so she kept babbling, "I think that he should write a book. I mean, just the ideas that he jots down for possible pitches are better than most of the novels I read."

"You read YA… That's not even a compliment," Stevie said.

"YA is one of the most top selling genres in the nation!" She defended. He rolled his eyes. She sighed and said, "Hey - they just wanna see you do well. And honestly, why _not_ do some real estate ish? You know that's an industry that there's usually work in." She shrugged her shoulders, "My parents dabble in it."

"Is there anything that they don't dabble in?" Dwight wondered.

"Her life," Stevie said.

"Whoa!" Stacie snapped.

Cheerio bit her lip and stood up, "I think I've worn out my welcome. Merry Christmas, everyone." She gave Stevie a sad look and left the table.

"What is wrong with you? Wasn't the whole point of inviting her so that she wouldn't feel bad about her parents not being around?" Stacie asked.

"I honestly have no idea why I said that. There is seriously something wrong with me. I can't just BE nice to her. I _have_ to cut her down every now and again, and I have no idea why."

"It's what you're used to doing," Sam said. "You're so accustomed to being hard and cold with certain people that it just naturally comes out of you sometimes. It'll go away once you're… better."

Stevie sighed, "I don't want to be this to her." Sam squeezed his shoulder. "When y'all started talking about her parents and I know that they would never EVER let her even sit at the same table with me, if they were around; I just got I don't know… Defensive, offensive, all of it. Why can't y'all just talk about benign shit."

"Well, things that might be benign can really impact people like y'all," Dwight said. "Son, you're fallin' in love with a girl whose parents would have a bodyguard tackle you if you got too close to their yard. I think it's worth thinkin' about the future."

"There's no future. You heard her."

Mercedes wondered, "Did _that_ upset you? That she didn't even consider the future with you?"

"Yeah, I mean… She was telling the truth, but I guess I wanted her to have to think about it, at least. She dismissed it like I've seen her dismiss clothes that she thought were unstylish. Like, I'm some damn phase or something."

"Okay, but if you tell her that y'all are just friends, what is she supposed to do, pine after you? I swear, Stevie, if _I_ was that girl, I'd tell everyone it's a hard pass, too! You run her around in circles! You _cheated_ on her for MONTHS!" Stacie fussed. Stevie sighed. He was ready for them to leave. He was ready to go lay down.

Mercedes asked, "Stevie, what is it that you think makes it so hard for you not to be able to commit, one way or another?"

He glanced at Sam and then Dwight, then looked at the table. Stacie asked, "Hey… Daddy, Sammy.. Think y'all can start getting all these leftovers and stuff into the truck?" Dwight smiled tightly and started. Sam poked his lip out, wanting to be part of the gabbing with the girls, but pouted his way right behind his dad. "They're gone now, so…"

"I always feel like I have to perform some type of manhood in front of them."

"Why?" Mercedes asked.

"Because, he used to have to. Sammy and Daddy were both very… demanding of how Stevie expressed himself. But, I wanna know this too, because I HAVE to know why my twin is sabotaging himself when his option is this beautiful, sweet girl who has smarts and talents and seems to think the complete and utter world of you. What is it that's making it hard for you to commit?"

"It's a cocktail, Stace. It's portions of different things. What she said earlier was true. She wants a family. I think I have enough of that with y'all. I don't ever want to start my own. Then, I have to figure out for sure, for sure, that I HAVE a future, okay? Cheerio's started doing toe touches again!"

Mercedes looked confused, so Stacie explained, "A knee injury was the cause of her breakdown. Fix the knee, fix the life."

"She's headed out of here, and probably soon. She gets recognized for her growth all of the time. I'm… in more shit here than I was when I got here."

"How so?" Mercedes asked.

"I don't wanna get into that, but it's another barrier. Not to mention her money. Not to mention her race. Not to mention our personalities. Like… there is not one good reason for me to commit to this."

"So, why don't you just leave her alone and actually just be her friend, then?" Mercedes asked.

Stacie said, sympathetically, "Because, he can't stop himself from being in love with her." Stevie looked embarrassed at the table. Stacie offered, "Stevie, there's nothing wrong with admitting how you feel. Even if it's complete confusion. But, there's something wrong with lashing out at somebody that you care about because you're confused. She didn't deserve that and you don't deserve to ruin things for yourself."

"I know I would be wasting her time."

"Maybe not. Maybe things will change," Stacie said. "I thought you loved her when I first met her, and I _know_ that you do, now."

"I will never confirm that," he said.

"You can't hide it from me, Boy. Who do you think I am?" Stacie asked. "What happened on Thanksgiving? When I caught you crying?"

He dropped his head to the table. "I did one of the most fucked up things to somebody that I was supposed to be friends with… She found out whenever she went to visit him for the holiday. She just wanted me to answer one question, _How could you do that? I thought you cared about him, I thought he was your friend…_ I KNOW what she really wanted to know is if she could expect me to do something equally as awful to her, one day. I cried, I swore on everything, on Mama's grave that I never would… But," he picked his head up, "I probably might." He shook his head, "She forgave me for doing what I did, something I'm too embarrassed to even tell y'all, and I still talked to her the way that I did a little while ago. I am… one of the worst people…"

Mercedes said, "I don't think so. Stevie, when I met you, you called me an animal, was rude, said and did stuff to try to upset and hurt me… But, you also let me open up to you and whenever you got here, you automatically tried not to be the same person to me that you were when we met. You always seem to be battling that person that you think is so bad. That's how you know that you can't be that bad. If you were, you'd let that person win. You'd let that person rule. You try to silence that person, because you know that you could and should be better. To me, you're a good kid that's not doing as well with his second chance as he would like to, but you've got time, okay?" He reached for her hand and squeezed it.

.

Cheerio was still in that silly ass outfit, going through her parents' gift basket when Stevie knocked. She didn't even turn his way. She knew it was him. She knew that he was there to apologize and she knew that the same thing would happen later. She just skipped all of that and went right to hug him and squeeze him and said, "Don't say anything." It was simply too tiring to argue and run in circles with him. They were friends. Friends forgave. And he held her like she mattered, so even if he might talk to her mean for no obvious reason, she rationalized that it didn't matter, as long as he came back, willing to try to make it right, it would be.

"Wanna see the stuff I got?" she asked. He nodded, grateful that he didn't have to grovel, but also guilty that she just allowed him to be back in her good graces. _I HAVE to do better. I have to BE better… for her…_ She was already on her tangent about all of the fancy stuff there and it's significance. She paused and stared curiously at him. "What?"

"I love seeing you happy," he said and shrugged his shoulders.

She smiled brightly and went to sit on his lap. "I love seeing you, whatever it is that I get from you that day."

"I'm trying to be better at being… consistent."

"I see that you're trying," she said.

"You know, you're not just my best friend… You're the best friend that I've ever had," Stevie admitted.

She hugged him, "That's mutual."


	12. Take You By the Hand

**Take You By the Hand**

Myron seemed more stressed than usual. Cheerio found out it was because Stevie spooked him out about conflict of interest and Dr. Campion, but Stevie of course, stuck to his guns and insisted that he was just being honest. Campion didn't seem to be enforcing any type of penalty, but Myron was not at ease, now. In fact… Cheerio noticed that a lot of people were not at ease. "Why are they all so tense?" She asked out loud.

"Job security is on the line for a lot of them. I'm sure that Campion and the board have been looking at their records and seeing where they can make visible examples, to ensure to possible future business endeavors that this place handles their problems," Stevie said. "My dad got laid off so much when I was young, I know that face. They're wondering if they need to look elsewhere. They're wondering what they'll do if they lose this paycheck. They're wondering if they'll be able to work elsewhere if they sever ties in an unconventional way…"

"I mean, but if they do their jobs well, then they're safe, right?" Cheerio asked.

Stevie chuckled, "Sometimes, I can't believe that we're the same species." She quickly turned her head towards him and he said, "That was class related, not race related! The rich are predatory savages, and they handle the poor like flocks of sheep. They'll give them what they need to survive, up until it's time for their slaughter."

"This is really the Cornflake you've decided to bring into the new year?" She asked.

"My resolution is to be more open and honest about my feelings."

"And not to be more tactful?"

"That was the tactful version. The poor need to rise up against them, kill them all and bathe in their blood, was gonna be the tagline…" She walked off and he just smiled. "You so cute when you mad!" he called out.

"Stop talking like that!" she snapped, even madder, now. "Clueless fucking redneck…" she mumbled, before bumping right into Allie-Ann. "Oh! Sorry," she said and smiled, uncomfortably. Allie-Ann gave her a soulless, toothless smile and stepped around her. Cheerio went on her way, until she noticed that Allie-Ann looked like she was approaching Stevie. She paused, nonchalantly looking over (because in a year and a half, she'd only seen this girl actually interact with like four people, and it was always silent and usually, they went to her). But, yep - she went right up to Stevie, looked him right in the face, then turned and left. _Wtf was that?_

Stevie followed the woman to the corridor doors, where Bukowski was waiting and swiped his badge before taking the two of them with him some place. Cheerio went to see if she could spy, but whenever she reached the door, it was closed and this new way would make a light flash and a buzzing sound at the nurse's station, to which, Bukowski would be contacted on the walkie talkie about. She waited on the other side of the door and whenever the three came back through, Bukowski stared her down, suspiciously. "Hey! I was waiting on you. Wanted to ask you about something," she said to him. Stevie furrowed his eyebrows. Allie-Ann just went on about her day. Cheerio looked at Stevie, and shooed him away. He reluctantly and stressfully left.

"What is it this time? Need a facial?"

"I can do those myself," she said. "And I've gotten better with the waxing, with Dani's help." Bukowski made a face that she read as either TMI uncomfortable or TMI curious, but she ignored it. "I wanted to know what it would cost me to get a little pass when the New Year breaks in." _She honestly did want to know this, but she'd waited at the door to see what Stevie would seem like whenever he came back through._

"Dr. Campion and Director Harris are making it way hard for me to accommodate my faves like I used to, Honeybun. Gonna have to be worth me losing my damn job for, for me to agree to any under the table dealings."

"Your glorious job at this luxurious paradise?" she wondered, sarcastically. "I'm sure that you could get paid more being my dad's caddy at the country club."

"I actually enjoy my pissant job, so…"

"Okay, so what's it worth for a pass, then? You know I'm good for whatever payment."

"I accept blowjobs as payment," he said, deadpan. She cringed and he laughed, "Couldn't resist. Sorry. Thought that was your brand of humor, like the boyfriend. What's the emergency?" he asked, hoping that she'd glide over the tasteless comment. She did.

"I wanna be able to have a kiss at the start of the year and Dr. Pepper said that we aren't going to be ringing in the New Year together this year."

"Yeah, Campion didn't like the thought of that, one bit."

"It's normalcy. The normies are gonna be doing it and we should be able to, as well."

"That was your argument last year and we did it, and if I remember correctly, you weren't even there; because you drank a handful of pills and got Ken Tanaka reassigned."

"He literally was only sent to juvie ward, where he belonged. God-damned roughhousing worst than Surette. I'm supposed to apologize for doing the thing that you all know that I might try to do? You all are supposed to be keeping track of me. Work harder."

"She says, while asking me to risk my job for some puppy love bullshit."

"Ugh. Why do I feel like you'd do it _if I did_ give you a blowjob?" She rolled her eyes and shook her head.

"It doesn't have to be that serious, but I'd like to know what happens during this pass. I can't have another PendleChase fuckaroo."

She cringed at the ship name, but responded, "Just a kiss, is all. I promise."

"Where are you trying to go?" he asked.

"Obviously Cornflake's room. You just referenced his humor three minutes ago."

"With or without his knowledge?"

"Ummm… I think I want it to be a surprise. He'll probably still be awake."

"Cheerio, you're damaged, for sure - but you're a good kid. Evans is not that. He's a killer, a rapist, a kidnapper, a woman beater…"

"Those things were grafted into his psyche by years of abuse and manipulation, but those things aren't what he is, and a woman beater is… way exaggerated. I know, he has hit girls before, but he doesn't just go around beating them up or anything, and he wouldn't do that without…"

"You think that there are reasons for a man to _ever_ hit a woman, aside from self defense, or consensual rough sex? Because none of his run-ins with women have been self defense and one of his ex girlfriends has a restraining order out on him."

"I know," she said, folding her arms. She did know and it did make her uncomfortable, but Stevie said that he never hit that girl, and she believed him.

"So, IF we're gonna do this, you need to let him know. He's been known to attack when somebody gets into his bubble. The last thing I need is him accidentally breaking your nose because you caught him off guard, on my watch."

"That bubble thing does not apply to me," she said. "Me and Dani have been putting it to the test for , she's gotten a few bows and chokes in the process..."

"Don't convince me. Tell me that you'll let him know in advance."

"I will," she said.

Bukowski sighed, "So, this is what I am willing to do for you, since we're cool and I _am_ here on New Year's Eve. Thanks for assuming that I have no life outside of here, by the way. I will unlock your doors at 11:55 and come back around to lock them back at 12:25. I'm leaving this building at 7:00 am on New Year's Day. Whenever Surette and Duncan come through to unlock in the morning, if you two are still in there together, I swear, you will never find favor with me again…" She squealed and gave him a hug. "And, we'll discuss payback some other time."

"To be clear, absolutely no blowjobs," she said.

"I wasn't and wouldn't ask you to suck my dick. You're underaged."

"That sounds like you'd ask me to suck somebody _else's_ ," she said and laughed uncomfortably.

"I gotta get back to work," he said.

.

Stevie didn't like her talking to him in secret, but whenever he tried to ask her about what they talked about, she just countered by asking him what _they_ talked about. Honestly, he was simply making sure that Stevie had his story straight if anything ever came up suggesting that he and Bukowski spent an extended period of time in her room one night.

The story was that Bukowski had caught Chase and Pendleton, brought Stevie with him to get him to talk about the situation, knowing that he was friends with Chase and wanting to see if there was anything else that he could have done, or anything else that he knew.

Allie-Ann has a care schedule of her hair and such that he generally does, (because the other caretakers shy away from knowing how to handle her hair texture/hair care); so he did that, to not be behind her schedule and closed the door so that none of the residents would hear possible personal information about Chase, Pendleton, or Stevie.

That would still be against protocol and he would probably still be penalized, but no criminal charges, at least.

But, if Stevie told _her_ that, he'd have to tell her what _did_ happen in that room, and he was never, EVER going to do that. He couldn't imagine how he would handle it if she ever somehow found out some other way. So, he was committed enough to covering up this lie, for that purpose, alone.

But, he was desperate to know what the fuck they talked about. "Bukowski," he said, approaching. "What did she say?" Stevie demanded.

"She didn't tell you?" he asked, not facetiously. "See, this is why you can't trust these… She was supposed to let you know that you have a window on New Year's Eve between 11:55 and 12:25, into the New Year. I swear, if she had come into your room and gotten her fucking neck broken, I'd piss on her body for lying to me."

Stevie flinched… "What is she doing that for?"

"I think she's one of the superstitious who believe that being with someone on New Year's is a sign of being with someone for the year or whatever. She wants to kiss you at the countdown." Stevie was excited about that, then he remembered that she had to have made a deal with the devil for this.

"What did you force her to do?"

"Nothing…" he started tinkering on his phone, "Yet." He looked up at Stevie and said, "But, I'll let you know when I figure it out."

Stevie promptly found Cheerio, gathered with some of the girls in her attempt to branch out and get ready to rejoin the world and said, "You gotta call it off." She smiled, confused. "He told me and I can't have you owing him anything. What don't you get about my numerous warnings?"

"I don't get anything, because you haven't TOLD me anything!"

"You can't just trust me?"

"I want to, but realistically - you don't have the most sensible track record when it comes to me and that turns me on so much, but also makes me doubtful of your paranoia, too."

"He's a rapist," he whispered. Her eyes went wide and she grabbed his arm and pulled him aside. He sighed, "He's been bothering me to try to find the Giardis, because he wants access to Tesla's…" he struggled to push the words out, "Rape tape."

"To whose… _What?"_

He took a deep breath, "Allie-Ann got here because of the triplets. The triplets hurt her, very, VERY badly. Bukowski has been… doing things with her - I don't know for how long, and now that he knows that the triplets were the ones to do what they did to her, he wants me to connect them."

"Is that what you two talk about? WHY are there so many predators in your list of friends?" She hugged herself. "What should I do? He has access to sedatives, my bedroom, _and_ he has beef with you? I'm going to go to Dr. Campion…" She turned and Stevie caught her arm. Her eyes widened and she stared at his lowered head. "Stevie… What did you do? What does he have on you that could possibly be any worse than you killing somebody?" Her stomach dropped.

"I can't say what he got me to do, but I can say that I don't want it to come out and that's the reason that he has power over me."

"Stevie…"

"Please, don't make me say more. Just… Don't go to Campion."

"I feel endangered! Is your pride worth more than my safety?"

"No. But, I have to ask that you try to believe that I won't let him do anything to you. I'll go to talk to him. I'll get him to disregard that deal with you and I'll… Give him what he wants to get that done."

"You're gonna give him access to the worse day of that girl's life, knowing full well that he probably intends to use it to further harm her?"

"If that's what I have to do to keep you safe from him, yes!"

"Why is that girl's safety any less important than mine?"

"I'm sorry, but I can't let him hurt you. He's already got her, so… I hate that it has to be her, but it can't be you!"

"It doesn't have to be either of us. Just go tell on his sick ass!"

"I can't do that!"

She shook her head, "I don't understand why I've placed you in such high regards, when this is the type of person that you are… The kind of person that would harbor secrets that allow this girl to be in this position…" She shook her head, "What kind of soulless fiend can live with something like this?" She sniffled. "You know… My mom has an ancestor who _belonged_ to a white man. He lorded over her. He abused her every day. She journaled it. She couldn't tell anybody about her pain, because everybody who knew them knew it, and nobody cared. It wasn't their concern. She had children, tried to raise them, was so depressed that the last entry in her journal was her suicide note… But honestly, the entire fucking thing is a suicide note! This is the kind of shit that black girls find out our foremothers went through. Having to see it happen to the girls around us today is not the business. I'm going to tell on him…" She stormed off and Stevie paced around.

Dr. Campion was not in the building, and she knew that she would be wasting her time by going to the nurses' station. She found Allie-Ann and sat with her. The girl looked up at her, confused, but still silent. "I heard… about what he does to you." She reached out for her hand, but the girl withdrew hers before Cheerio could touch her. "I am going to report him. I won't let him keep doing that to you. I'm gonna get you real help, okay? Tesla, he can't…" Allie-Ann winced, took Cheerio's notepad and opened her hand for the pen. _No, thank you._ "But, it's not right. He can't…" _Please, don't._ "Why not?" Allie-Ann thought for a moment. _I've been hurt before. What he does is not that. I'm safe with him._ Cheerio's eyes widened. That _couldn't_ be correct. _He's no worse than yours, and you care for him._ "I think that maybe you're confused, because of your trauma. I think that the doctors can help you if they know what you're going through. They can help you to work out what he's been doing; what he's added on to what had already happened to you…"

"I said no!" Tesla snapped, then covered her mouth with both hands, got up and left the table. If Cheerio hadn't been so shaken up by what happened, she would have been proud of the fact that this was the second person committed to not talking whose silence she had shattered. But, for all she knew, this woman talked all of the time.

Bukowski came over to the table and stared at Cheerio, "Is there anything that you want to talk about?" he asked. She shut her notepad and collected it to her chest. "What's wrong with Allie-Ann? She looked like you upset her."

"I wouldn't do anything to upset or hurt her," Cheerio said and got up. "And… I don't need your favor on New Year's Eve."

"You seem troubled. I hope that nobody's done anything to shake you up."

"Nobody's done anything to do anything to me… _and they better not,"_ She said and looked him up and down like the peasant that he was, before getting up and walking off, disgusted and outraged, but not wanting to stir up whatever Tesla didn't want her to stir up. She was walking, thinking about the whiteness on her mom's side, the journal, the girl in here, the stories in history, and the way that Stevie was so fucking comfortable with just… letting it be… She roared and threw over an entire table, then stared at it, terrified of her own outburst.

She turned to see Surette closing in on her. "That was an accident," she said.

"Let's go to your room," he said and collected her arm, gently. She looked down at his hand, surprised at his gentleness and let him escort her to the room. "Do I need to sedate you?"

"No. I'm just frustrated and I can't believe that I reacted that way. I'm sorry." She put her head down and started crying.

"Do you need me to get you something to help you cheer up?"

"Why are you being so nice? Campion threaten your job?"

"Why else? What do you need, Child?"

"I feel unsafe here," she said. "I need… to get out of this place, unharmed!" She sniffled and Surette sat down on the foot of the bed, next to her. Her eyes grew wide.

"If somebody is doing anything to you, you need to let us know."

"Let _who_ know?"

"Me, the nurses, the doctors… Someone."

"You didn't say Bukowski…"

"You were talking to him shortly before you flipped that table. I presumed he wasn't an option. What's the situation?"

She shook her head, "Nobody wants me to say anything."

"Nobody can help you, if you don't." She shrugged her shoulders. Surette sighed and got up, "Suit yourself, Princess. Need me to lock this door?"

"No, thank you."

Surette got up and went to grab Bukowski. He brought him into the corridor and slammed him into the wall, "Whenever I let this bullshit slide, it was because I felt sorry for you and because I thought it was a once type of thing. If you're so fucking stupid that you would _dare_ try to pull your shit on that Robinson girl…"

"I haven't done anything to her. Whatever her problem is, it's that Evans kid that's stirring the shit up. You know I'm not looking for any trouble. I did strong arm him a little bit, but I haven't done anything to the girl and _no,_ I wouldn't be that stupid! Cheerio went to Allie and did or said something that upset her so much that she spoke to her."

Surette looked alarmed, "What the hell did she say?"

"I don't know. She's gone back to silence."

Surette put his finger in Bukowski's face, "If you have to get her to check herself out of this place, so be it. But, I'm not turning a blind eye to the shit, if you're gonna be causing problems for the richest resident in the building."

"I'm not!"

"Deal with Allie-Ann and leave Cheri Robinson the fuck alone."

"What do you mean _deal with_ Allie-Ann?" Bukowski asked.

"If she's talking to that little bitch, that could cause problems for _both_ of us. Allie-Ann knows that I know what you do."

"Oh, she's a little bitch now? The other day, she was a good kid."

"This is not the time to test my patience, Brett."

"Allie-Ann would never tell them anything bad about me and I wouldn't drag you into it, if she did!"

"Deal with her, or I'll have to," Surette said and left. Bukowski sighed and stayed in the corridor a moment, to catch his breath. When he returned, as cool headed and smooth as usual, Cheerio and Stevie were arguing, softly. Allie-Ann was seated with Surette and she looked pretty spooked. Bukowski came over and asked, "What the fuck are you doing, Bobby?"

Surette stood up and said, "About to make rounds." Bukowski checked on Tesla to see if she was alright after Surette (most likely) threatened her. Surette passed by Cheerio and Stevie, "Keep that shit down," he said.

.

Stevie and Dani went outside for P.E., despite the cold. Stevie wished he would have just shut up and took it. Now, he was tense about everything and Cheerio was so upset about everybody letting people get away with everything, she was spending her gym time punching a mat. Stevie was freezing, but didn't want to go inside and Dani didn't want to leave him by himself.

After a while, she couldn't stand it and they went inside with their baseball stuff. Cheerio finally got back to her stretches and splits and Stevie was just about to calm down and watch her do that when someone grabbed his arm in excitement and he swung the bat and smashed him in the face with it!

"Oh my God!" Dani screamed as Chase hit the floor, his face bleeding. "Oh my God!" Stevie repeated as Chase screamed. Surette and Bukowski we're quickly on the site. "It was an accident. He came out of nowhere…"

"Put the goddamn bat down, Evans," Surette said. Stevie held the bat tightly, shaken, frustrated, angry with himself, with them, with this place, to a certain degree, with her, and he just roared and began swinging the bat, hitting the wall, equipment, and nearly people rushing out of the way.

Danny stepped away from him but he simply proceeded to beat the ground and the building screaming obscenities while she ran away honestly terrified and everyone else looked on.

Dr. Pepper and Dr. Campio showed up and tried to talk him down. "Stevie, put that that down, okay?" Pepper said. "Just set it down and you and I can take a walk." He clenched it tightly and looked at Cheerio. She was terrified. He couldn't tell if it was _of_ him or _for_ him, but that suddenly mattered a lot. He started walking in her general direction unti And Surette both subdued him, forcing the bat out of this hand. "Get off me! Get off me!" he began to scream.

Bukowski gave him a small sedative to get him to calm down and they were able to gather him up and let him walk with Pepper.

By that time Dani had found her way to Cheerio and was hiding behind her. Stevie got excitable again and they gave him another small dosage as they wanted him to be able to make it back to where they could sit him down.

Cheerio turned her head to look at Dani and asked, "What the hell happened?"

"Chase came out of nowhere and grabbed him and he clocked him with the bat, then, I guess he felt bad and had meltdown." Dani was trying not to cry. "He's been feeling so guilty already about everything with Chase, and this couldn't possibly helped especially since you're upset with him now too. I just want him to have one good f****** day."

.

Stevie's door was locked, but whenever Dani and Cheerio peeked in, they saw that he was in bed, in restraints, and Nurse Penny was nearby reading quietly. Dani covered her mouth and Cheerio whimpered, "This is all my fault."

"You didn't make him attack stuff with a bat. I guess I just want to know what made him snap like that? What were you two fighting about this time? What's been going on lately? Why are both of my besties keeping everything from me?"

"Me not minding my business it's why he flipped out like this. He told me to stay away from... He told me to trust him. I tried to do things my own way, and I made everything worse." She cried, "Why was he coming in my direction? Was he going to hit me with the bat? Was he going to apologize for what had just happened with Chase? Was he going to remind me that this was all my fault?"

"Ladies, don't hover around Batshit's door," Surette said.

Cheerio snapped, "That it's highly insensitive of you to say, being that you work with people suffering through mental instabilities!"

"Yeah, well he went crazy with a bat in his hand so it's a play on words and I think it's hilarious. How's that whole pressing charges against me thing going? Your mom get back to you on that?" He chuckled. Cheerio wanted to punch him right in the ballsack. But, he had a point… Nobody gave a fuck how these people treated them.

She complained almost from the moment that she got into the place, and everybody shook her off as "needing to adjust," or secretly just thought that the entitled princess was complaining because she was no longer in her mansion. Her parents probably thought she was just saying things to get them to come pick her up, if they were even actually reading the letters. As many complaints as there were, they mostly came from residents that she herself had riled up. So, naturally, nobody who could do anything paid attention to what she believed were very real concern about Bobby cigarettes and appropriate and abusive treatment of residents. And now, she knew this even more awful thing about Bukowski!

Dr. Campio had made several changes in a few short weeks,but she knew that she couldn't really just go to him, especially now - with Stevie having had this explosion and Tesla not wanting her to come forward.

Then, when she asked Chase why on Earth he would grab Stevie, of all people, he said, "Surette said that Stevie missed me and wanted to see me right then! I didn't think I would surprise him that much!" She was sick and tired of people using Chase to hurt someone else. And it certainly shouldn't f****** be done by the orderlies.

After a while when Stevie door was open and he was asleep, Cheerio went into the room while Danny kept watch outside of the door and she searched through his th noings. She found an envelope, wrote down information in her notepad and she and Dani took off, so that they wouldn't get caught.

 _Dear Susie Q,_

 _Please don't think that this is a joke. Nobody listens to us. I'm one of the residents at the MHA center that your brother was assigned to after his case. I've tried to tell people about this before, but because we're here, they don't seem to take him seriously. I don't think that this place is good for him. I don't know if he's getting the help that needs. At least one orderly is abusive to him, to all of us really, and inconsiderate with our mental states. He called Steven "Batshit," after he had an explosive episode in which he was belligerent with a baseball bat and had to be subdued and sedated. You probably can't really do anything to get them to get rid of Bobby Surette, the employee I am accusing; but maybe you can safely get him to some place that is better for him._

 _In addition to that, he's told me some very troubling things about another orderly who seems to be preying on him in some type of way. Brett Bukowski._

 _I'm sorry if this is scary. It's scary for me, too. I have to live with these people having access to me at all times, but I'm more worried about Steven, because he's more vulnerable to abuse and more susceptible to these predators. I hope that this letter reaches you._

 _I'm sorry that I can't remember your real name. I'm sure I've noted it somewhere. You looked like a Pollyanna or a Susie Q… Steven usually refers to you as "my sister" or "my twin." I think that some part of him feels like he can't bring you into this place with him mentions literally everyone else's names when he speaks about them. Even those triplets. I can't remember their names, but he's definitely used them. That lady that deflowered him when he was 13. Is she still out there? She might need to get looked into. She's a habitual child molester who is a groupie for Aryan teenage boys!_

 _Of all of the people that Stevie speaks of, I_ know _that he trusts you above all. If anybody can and will be willing to try to help him out, I know that would be you. I just hope that he doesn't hate me forever for dragging you into this. I know that he hates having the people he cares about involved in his problems. He would rather that they swallow him up whole than to put them on you, but I don't know what else to do to help him. These people aren't cutting it._

 _I don't want to sign my name, in case this gets intercepted, but I don't want you to think that this is a cruel joke either. So, those roses were red. I hope you remember that. Thank you, whether or not anything happens. But, I'm confident that you're as passionate, dedicated and protective as your intense counterpart._

 _Love,_

 _Not a Peacock._

 _._

Stacie was livid and terrified by the time that she got the letter. It took about a week for her to get it and now they were telling her at the building that Stevie was temporarily unable to receive visitors. Dwight was out of town, working at a construction site for the next few weeks. Sammy was travelling for book promotions and the movie that they were working on to coincide with it. She was currently without a vehicle to get there, and had to ask Mercy to borrow the Pieces of Mercy van. That made Mercy just as concerned as she was and they both went there, the day after New Year's Day.

Whenever they entered the building, the nice nurse at the counter smiled, uncomfortably and said, "Hi, Miss Evans, Miss Jones. I think that there must have been some type of mistake. Stevie doesn't have any visits scheduled for a while."

Mercedes' nostrils flared, but she kept her voice delicate and even, as she said, "We're very concerned about Stevie, Nurse Sandy. If you wouldn't mind getting someone who is able to get us in to see him, please."

"That's not how it usually works. We have certain time periods and hours that residents can receive guests, and if they're unavailable, they can't have visitors. With the nature of Stevie's current condition and a recent occurrence, we can't allow it…"

Stacie was ready to go off on this old lady, but Mercedes simply said, "Well, the lawyer is on her way and you can explain it to her. In the meantime, we need the information of how to have him sent to some other facility."

Sandy didn't get paid enough to explain to her that this wasn't how it worked either, so she just said, "Let me get you the director."

Bob Harris came out to meet them and quickly said, "I'm sorry for any inconvenience. As you must realize, we are doing everything in our power to take the proper care with Steven and every one of the other residents that we have here…"

"We. Want. To. See. Him." Stacie said, clapping her hands to accentuate her words.

"I can take you to where he is right now, but I have to warn you, it isn't a good sight, and generally - residents are ashamed whenever their loved ones from the outside world have to see them in their low moments of their rehabilitation…"

"From experience, I believe Stevie will get over it."

He escorted them to Stevie's room, where he was asleep and in restraints. "He's been like this for a few days. Whenever he wakes, he has another fit, almost immediately, and we have to have him here until he's calmed down…" Stacie began searching beneath his clothes. "Miss Evans?"

"I'm making sure that nobody here is abusing my brother. He's gotten enough of that in his life, his _whole_ life, and I'll be damned if it happens while he's trapped in this place, at the hands of the people who are supposed to be helping him to work on all of what has happened to him and what he's done because of it."

"I assure you that we all want what's best for the residents here, whether they are a threat to themselves, or to others," he looked at Stevie, when he said it.

"While we're on the subject of threats to others, this Bobby Surette character, I don't want him near my brother. And this Brett Bukowski. Neither of them need to be anywhere near him."

Director Harris looked confused, "Has Steven expressed some complaints? I should tell you that Surette and Bukowski are the orderlies that are generally responsible for Steven's ward and I haven't been told of any complaints about either of them.

"Yes, you have! You just haven't listened!" Stacie snapped. Mercedes touched her arm and tried to calm her down. She had never witnessed Stacie this mad before, but she also hadn't ever known of Stevie to be in danger before. She had only heard of this protective beast Stacie before. This was the first time she was meeting her. "You think that you can just treat people however you want because you've got them in here and they have no power and small, hidden voices; but that's not how it's about to work with any Evans, Mister Bob Harris. We. Screw. Shit. Up. ANYTIME somebody messes with one of ours!"

"Please let me know what I can do for you and your family?"

"I can tell you what is going to happen to you if people here have my brother having explosions and dehumanizing him because he's not quite right. What's gonna happen, is that you're gonna see my very likable, very rising star older brother on six different channels and online headlines talking about the trash establishment you're running here, as well as see us in court every single opportunity we have about your staff making offensive comments to and about the people who have to live here!"

Mercedes added, "I have never known her to be this angry, so please don't exacerbate that by pretending that you've never heard a single complaint about him. We know at least two people who will be willing to tell their stories. If the courts don't believe them, somebody out there will and somebody will care. The Internet is becoming a huge consideration for people making decisions about what companies and organizations that they want to deal with."

"We would bury this place!" Stacie told him. Mercedes rubbed her back.

The Director sighed, and was about to try to appease her when Nurse Sandy brought Holly Holiday in and said, "Dr. Campion would like for you, Ms. Holiday and Ms. Jones to meet him in your office."

Stacie said to Mercedes, "I'll wait with him." The adults left the room and Stacie fumed for a while, then took Stevie's hand. He stirred and opened his eyes. "Hey, Steves."

He jumped and took a deep breath. "I keep thinking that stuff is happening. Like, I thought Stacie was here." He laughed. "That's so stupid. That's stupider than Cheri being here. Where is Cheri? Is she still mad?" He started crying.

"Stevie, I'm here. Stacie is here."

He stared at her for a while. "She's not real," he said, to whoever he was talking to.

"Who are you talking to, Stevie?" she asked, sadly.

"She's talking to me, though," he said. "Hey… Stacie… If you're here, why are you here?"

"Because Cheerio wrote me a letter telling me that the orderlies are abusing you."

Now, he seemed to wake up. He shook his head, "No, no, no, no…"

"It's okay."

"They're gonna hurt her if you tell anybody that. They can't know that. They'll do bad stuff. They're bad people. Don't. Where is she?" He continued crying.

"You know what… I'll go see if I can find her while Mercy and Holly are with the Director…"

"What? What are y'all doing? You're gonna start so much shit."

"Please, try to keep calm, so nobody comes to sedate you, okay?" She touched his face, then went wandering through the building.

She reached the visitation space and saw Cheerio in the adjacent common room, appearing to be arguing with an orderly. She wondered which one. She marched over, ready for this fight that she knew she would have with him, whoever the hell he was. She read the nametag. _Surette._ "What's going on here?" Surette looked at her in confusion, wondering who she was supposed to be, but when he saw the resemblance, he remembered seeing her visit Evans.

"Hi, Ms. Evans. Nothing's happening. But, I don't think that your brother is available for visitation right now…"

"What does that have to do with me catchin' you abusing this resident, you little punk?" Stacie asked through her teeth, tiny self looking right up into his face, daring him to challenge her. Cheerio's face brightened at the attention, and Dani, Myron and Chase approached, slowly and curiously.

"I'm sorry?" Surette said.

"I caught you berating this resident and I'm gonna report you to your supervisor for it." Tesla and Bukowski now approached, slowly too, as Stacie was snapping at Surette.

He stuttered over his words, "I was simply… I wasn't berating her. She's extremely difficult and you misconstrued us playing around."

Cheerio said, "I have zero rapport with him and we were not playing, at all!"

Surette said, "I just tried to help you a few days ago with a problem and you refused to let me help you!"

"That doesn't mean that you weren't just being your same abusive self!" She fussed.

"You are doing this because you have an audience, and it's about time that you stop pretending to be victimized and get real. This woman is thinking that I'm wronging you."

Stacie lied, "I witnessed the entire thing!"

Having seen the scene growing on the camera, Dr. Campion and Holly had come to the common room, leaving Mercedes in the office with Director Harris, until they got back. Holly said, "Stacie, I will take care of this. You don't need to interact with him or anyone."

"I came to try to find Stevie's gal and found her gettin' attacked by this chump. Tell them what you just did!" She fussed at him, hoping that he wouldn't call her bluff.

"I was trying to get Cheri to go back to her room, because she was being disorderly, like she's been being _all_ week."

"But, what did you call her?" Stacie asked, once again hoping to trip him up, assuming that Cheerio had been genuine and he was regularly verbally abusive and presuming that because of this, that he called her out of her name in this exchange and would confess. Honestly, she didn't hear anything.

"Cheery Hoe," he mumbled. Cheerio exhaled a breath that she didn't know that she was holding. Stacie raised an eyebrow and thought about that trash calling her brother "Batshit," while he was laying up in that bed, struggling to hold on to reality.

"And we were not playing. I didn't consent to being called that. This isn't my friend, associate or anything comfortable enough for him to call me that."

"It's rich, though," Dani said.

"This ain't the time, Dani," Cheerio told her. Campion had Surette and Bukowski both come back with he and Holly to Harris' office to replay what had just happened and discuss whether or not they needed legal representation for this mess with Stevie. Having heard what the commotion was about, the Director lowered his head and Mercedes commented, "So weird how you were just willing to stake your name that your staff was all exceptional, but here he is, confessing to being verbally aggressive to a teenage girl who is in here for a reason that I'm sure isn't to be berated…"

Cheerio rushed to Stevie's room as soon as she could, with Stacie holding her hand and the other three following to be nosy.

He was squirming and crying, but stopped when he saw them. She said, "Sorry that I told your family…"

He tried to lean towards her, but couldn't move far, so she leaned against him. "What did you do?" he whispered, timidly. "What did you do?" he asked louder. She backed away and he kept asking, getting louder and louder, until he was screaming at her, "They're going to fucking kill you! What did you do?" She turned to flee the room and Dani and Myron caught her in a hug.

Nurse Sandy came in and gave Stevie something to calm him down, and he went back to sleep. Stacie cried and shook her head. She held his hand and said, "Y'all can come in. I don't care what that staff says. They're gonna deal with what _I_ want, right now." She looked at Chase's bandaged face and wondered, "Dear Lord, did they do that to you?" He sadly shook his head and Dani blurted out, "That was Stevie. But, it was an accident. He caught him off guard, but then… I think he felt bad and that was when he… went into this."

Stacie looked at Cheerio and said, "I know he's upset, but you did the right thing. Y'all aren't safe with those guys in here." Holly and Mercedes came back to find Stacie and to leave. "He'll appreciate it more when he's over this relapse, okay?"

"Thank you, Susie Q." Stacie handed her a business card. _Stacie Evans. Pieces of Mercy. Floral Arrangements and Gift Baskets._ There was an address and phone number. "Stacie," she corrected herself and smiled, then gave her a hug. Stacie hugged the others, too, until she got to Myron and aved his hands frantically and shook his head.

Dani wondered, "Are things gonna be better now, or was that just a fun afternoon?"

They all looked at Stevie, whimpering in his sleep. "Definitely not the latter," Cheerio said.


	13. Keep It Stuck Inside Your Head

**Keep It Stuck Inside Your Head**

Dr. Campion had Stevie's restraints removed and set a nurse and one of the orderlies at his room for when he woke up.

Basically, they had spoken with the legal team and because there was no actual complaint from Stevie himself, there was no grounds for removal of the orderlies that Stacie was concerned about, pending further investigation.

Bukowski and Surette were pulled into the director's office and spoke with the group about their relationship with Stevie, on the record and whenever Stevie was up and about, he would either disprove or corroborate their claims. I the meantime, both agreed to not go near him and Campion assured Stacie and Mercedes that he would personally see to it that they didn't.

Stacie wasn't satisfied with that arrangement, but legally, they couldn't do anything and legally, Campion didn't HAVE to do this much, with no grounds.

When it was just himself and the orderlies, he asked, "When Young Mr. Evans wakes up, IS he going to say the things that you two have said on the record?"

Bukowski said, "Definitely me. I mean, I know that I've done some off of the books stuff, but nothing worth whatever that girl was trying to have happen."

Campion looked at Surette. Surette simply reminded him, "Steven Evans is a dangerous criminal who has now on more than one occasion assaulted other residents, but yet there's always excuses made for him. The little bastard is a killer. I don't regret anything that I've done on this job and I have nothing to hide. I said everything that I needed to say, and I'm still a little bit offended that you felt that I needed to say _that_ much. Why are we justifying our actions and methods to the family of a murderer, who got off and isn't even placed with the criminals?"

Campion wiped his face with a hand and asked, "Surette, is this all about the fact that you believe that he needs to be punished more? Because it _isn't_ a mission of this institution to punish people. Our job is to help them. A judge decided that Steven Evans needed help. If you don't think that you can do that, I need to know."

"I do my job," Surette said. "I've done it the entire time. Maybe sometimes I get frustrated, but I still keep my wards safe. Stevie Evans is a danger to my wards. _That's_ the problem that I have with him. He and Dani should be with the criminals."

"Dani hasn't had one violent episode since she got here!" Campion said. "I read her file when you expressed this concern the first time!"

"And Evans?"

"I'm taking him into my care. I'll determine if you're right about him, but I gotta tell you, it's not looking good. Berating the residents? And when it's visitation time? Anybody could have heard you and someone did!"

"That is a write-up, at best, Campion," Surette said.

"Mrs. Robinson claims that she never got any alert that her daughter wanted to press charges against you. Any reason that you know of that she might not have gotten that message?"

"Guess it got lost in the mail," Surette said, nonchalantly.

" _Now,_ she knows and she's prepared to move forward with that!"

"IF they find any reason to do so," Surette said.

"We can't afford to go to battle with that family's lawyers," Campion said.

"We won't have to. Cheerio will realize that she was being irrational, and she'll call it off," Surette said.

Campion nodded, "You'd better hope and pray that happens, if you care about this job, as much as you claim to."

.

When winter break ended for schools, the break ended for the kids in the center, as well. Pepper preferred keeping them with a system that would make for an easy transition back into regular life. She sat everyone down one on one to speak about the recent incidents (from Stevie's outburst to the visit from his sisters), and she sat down with them as a group, as well.

"There have been a lot of changes, to try to make things better for you, but if with these changes things still are not meeting your expectations, or if things have gotten any worse; we need to know what we need to do to make everything right."

Cheerio raised her hand, "Bukowski and Surette are still here."

"Yes, they are."

"But, they're bad people who are bad at what they do," she said.

"Well, until we have something to indicate that they've done anything other than made mistakes on the job, there is not a reason for this facility to part ways with either of them. Unless you have a report of a personal nature, not word of mouth or an observation that could be misconstrued…"

"Surette has put his hands on everybody in this room, in front of everybody in this room and the people who could help us are telling us how we must be trippin.'"

Cheerio had been very vocal about it, riling up other residents once again, until the night that she woke and felt pressure on her bed. She gasped and jolted up, but someone caught her and laid her back down, gently, but sternly. "We haven't had a chance to talk, lately," Bukowski said. She opened her mouth, ready to scream and he said, "Scream, and so help me - I'll have to react accordingly. I wouldn't have a choice. Right now, I just want to talk. I'm perplexed. I thought that you and me were cool. I thought that we were good. But… you completely blindsided me when you said that I was dangerous and tried to have me sacked. What is it that you feel like I've done to deserve your betrayal?"

"You're a rapist," she whispered, terrified, but unable not to say it.

"Why on earth would you say a thing like that?" he asked. "I'm hurt and confused. When have I ever done anything to make you feel this way?"

"I know what you've been doing to Tesla," she said, crying and too scared to stop shaking.

"I love her," he said. "I know - that's not right. She's a ward and I probably should have been more professional, but we can't help it, who we love, can we?" He let go of her and she sat up, trying to see him in the dark. What was he doing? Was he preparing to harm her? Rape her? Worse? His phone light came on. "I wonder how you feel about who you love. If you think that sometimes, doing some wrong can be forgiven, or if you're gonna keep the momentum…" He showed her a video of Stevie, on top of Tesla and she cried and shut her eyes. "He doesn't appear to be having a terrible time," Bukowski said. She sobbed. "So, I guess… It depends on perspective… Who is at fault, or who is wrong…"

"You must have made him…"

"For all of the time that you've known me, I've been nothing but nice and accommodating. He's a killer. He's been fuckin' other girls. He's been beating up your friends and driving people away from you. But, you manage to think that this time around, he was right, and I was wrong?"

"Please, leave me alone."

"But, you're slandering me… For him…" He pushed the phone closer to her face and fast forwarded, "Know what's happening there? That's a full blown load, there. Your boyfriend had just told me that a hardon meant consent. He had a hardon and he got off. So… I mean… What do you think _Tesla_ thinks about it?"

"You made her…" she said.

"Did I make him?"

"You must have."

"Okay. Well… If that's true, why haven't you told on me?"

"I didn't know what you did. I just knew that you were doing something!"

"Because _he_ said so? Did he tell you about the triplets and the woods? Did he tell you how he never even thought to mention it, until I asked him? That kid is a bad seed. Now, maybe I'm not a good person, either, but Tesla will tell you that I love her. She will tell you that I have never hurt her, ever."

She whimpered, "She said that you didn't hurt her. She told me not to tell…"

"But, you want me to suffer, anyway?"

"I only moved forward with Surette. I just mentioned your name because Stevie was afraid of you."

"Afraid of me? Or… afraid _for_ you? He's not some doe, Cheerio. He's more dangerous than I could ever attempt to be. But, I swear to you… If you come between Allie-Ann and I, there won't be anybody more dangerous than me for you. Do you understand? I will do anything in my power to keep her and I don't give a fuck who it is that tried to ruin it, I would destroy them. Fuck your parents' money, their lawyers, your fucked up ass boyfriend. None of that would matter, if you make me kill you…"

"You wouldn't dare! You're bluffing!" She said, crying.

"If you want to risk it, keep going. If you want to see how willing I am to shoot you up with enough meds to kill a horse; you just keep at this little mission you've been on. Your parents hardly know you. They might be relieved to find out that you _finally_ succeeded in killing yourself…" She urinated on herself and wailed into the sky.

Now, Bukowski left the room and she got up to clean herself up, crying and honestly terrified. He locked the door and looked at Surette, "I think that she'll back off."

"If not… She'll unfortunately have to get a hold of a lethal dosage of sedatives. You got off on it, didn't you? Threatening her?"

"I totally pleaded with her," Bukowski said, chuckling. "Honestly, it was super hot. Especially when she pissed herself. That was delightful."

Surette grabbed him by the collar and reminded him, "She's a child."

"She's almost old enough…" he rationalized. "And… it's okay to kill her but not to get a little chubby over her?"

"Having to hurt her wouldn't bring me any pleasure, but if we have to… We have to."

"I don't think we'll have to," Bukowski said.

.

Dr. Campion had tea waiting for Stevie when he cautiously and timidly walked into the office. "Good morning, Young Mr. Evans. You can have a seat. Want some tea?"

Stevie sat down, tense and nervous, but trying to appear calm. "If it ain't Southern sweet tea, I don't want none of it."

"I've heard that stuff has _a lot_ of sugar."

"If it don't taste like iced diabetes, is it even sweet tea?" Stevie asked.

"This is an artisan floral blend to destress," Campion said.

"That sounds gay," Stevie commented.

Campion sighed and said, "Well… I don't think that tea or enjoying it has a sexuality."

"Do you start all your talks with tea? Is there a psychology behind what kinda tea that people like?" Stevie asked, tired and annoyed. "If I react a certain way to your gay ass tea, then you can decide to go ahead and put me in juvie ward where I belong?"

"No, but that's an interesting concept that I may eventually look into. I'd be curious to know what a nice cinnamon chai says about someone. But, for right now, I will settle for asking you straight up - Why do you feel like you belong in the juvenile delinquency wing?"

"Something aside from bein' a goddamned juvenile delinquent?"

"There are very few children that we put into the delinquency."

"I ain't no child. I'm a couple months away from being considered a grown man, legally. I've been able to take care of myself like one for most of my life."

"It's possible to be able to do things like a man, but not be a man. Jobs, sex, habits… All of these things can be done by someone who is physically capable, but sometimes, the person isn't mentally capable of handling the things that they can do, that they have done. I believe you fall into this category."

"How so?"

"You feel like you're a man. You think that you should be punished, like a man would if he was violent and had an outburst like you did. I think of your attack as I would if it were my six year old having a tantrum."

"Your six year old probably ain't gonna bust somebody's face open with a bat."

"No, but you didn't do that in your tantrum, did you? I wasn't on the scene, but every account claims that the hit to Chase's face was accidental and only afterwards did you begin the tantrum."

"Maybe so… But, when I hit him, it wasn't a child's swing… Is he okay?"

"He was shaken, but physical pain doesn't bother him as much as anxiety does. He was more worried about you than he was physically hurt by his cracked jaw. He was worried that he had ruined your reunion and you would be mad at him again?"

"I wasn't mad at him," Stevie said, disgusted with himself. He really didn't deserve Chase. He hadn't appreciated him the way that he should have. "But, I hurt him, anyway. It wasn't even the first time. You know that? It's in my file, right? I strangled him, before I even knew his name. I… did other mean things to him that y'all don't even know. Then, I did this thing. I've gotten into two bad fights over Cheerio. I've accidentally elbowed or choked Dani multiple times, for getting too close to me and not warning me of it. But, y'all keep me surrounded by these innocents. Y'all keep me with people who are nice, sweet, good fuckin' kids that made mistakes or had trauma inflicted upon them. Y'all let me near them, and too fuckin' bad for them, that I can't seem to fucking control myself and stop fucking hurting them!"

"You're angry."

"How many degrees did it take you to figure that out?"

"But, you're not angry with me. I'm just the person in front of you right now."

"I'm definitely angry with you. You came in here acting like you were gonna change shit and make stuff better, but now I have family out there, thinking - I don't even know what. My girl is terrified and you're not gonna do anything to help anybody."

"What do you think that I should do? As it stands now, I don't have anything on anyone. Do you have something that can help me to take actions against anyone?"

"Would you believe me, if I did?"

"You'd have to trust me enough to believe me when I say yes. I don't think that you do trust me, though. I don't think that you trust anyone. I think that everyone that you have ever trusted has made you feel like you shouldn't have trusted them and now, you're slow to trust anyone again. But, if you can't trust me, I know that you won't. So, if you're in danger, it makes me sad that you don't think that I will help you. That you would keep information from me that could help you… or your _girl…"_ Stevie flinched. He _just_ realized that he'd called her that. No need to correct himself, now. Campion was on about something, anyway.

"Steven, we're going to have to talk about the orderlies that your friend reached out to your family about."

"What do you have to say about them?" Stevie asked.

"I want you to tell me why someone would believe that you're in danger here?"

"Everybody here is crazy, so maybe that's why."

"Is your sister the type of person to believe anything that any person tells her?"

"She's very protective and has been worried most of the time that I've been in here. It's a sensitive spot. It would have been too easy to get her all worked up."

"Who contacted her? Was it Cheri? Was it Dani? Should I question them again?"

"Do whatever you want," Stevie said. "You're the man in control."

"Have either of those orderlies ever done anything to hurt you?"

"I don't know. Since I got here, I've had people tell me that I've been raped, abused, manipulated, taken advantage of… I don't think that I have a very good compass for this type of thing. If I just say no, will this conversation end?"

"We'll end our session at the end of the hour. So, whenever you say that people have told you; are you suggesting that those things didn't happen to you?"

"Yeah. Nobody forced me to have sex with the women that I was with when I was younger."

"Maybe not. But, this state doesn't consider you capable of consenting to sex with an adult, so even if you wanted to - we consider it rape."

"I accept that. But, y'all aren't gonna get me to feel attacked. I didn't feel attacked and I like looking back on my life's good moments fondly. I've had too many bad moments not to appreciate the good ones."

"There's nothing wrong with that. I would be concerned about some of the effects that such a sexual encounter at such an early age might cause. Many boys feel guilt and shame because they got physically aroused during the abuse. But, males can respond to sexual stimulation with an erection or even an orgasm – even in sexual situations that are traumatic or painful. That's just how male bodies and brains work. That doesn't mean that it was your fault, or even that you liked it. Those who sexually use and abuse boys know this. They often attempt to maintain secrecy, and to keep the abuse going, by telling the child that his sexual response shows he was a willing participant and complicit in the abuse. "You wanted it. You liked it," they say. Did somebody ever tell you that, or did you presume it, yourself?"

"I knew it. I didn't presume anything. I was there."

"Sometimes, environments of toxic masculinity make us feel pressured to tough things out that we should address, or even to like or pretend to like things, because we wouldn't be men, if we felt some other way."

"You think I'm saying I liked sex with women because I think I'm supposed to, and not because I actually did like it?"

"I think that if you liked it, you liked it because you thought that you were supposed to."

Dr. Campion pulled out Stevie's journal and Stevie tensed up, "Why do you have that?"

"When you became violent and disassociated, we had to investigate to see if there was anything here that could tell us something about your relapse or the cause. I don't know if we did find that, but you do have some things here written regarding your abuse. That you were nervous and frightened whenever you were brought to the place, but your friends seemed happy, so you become happy too. You have things written down that you want to do with a girl… some places, you simply refer to her as _her -_ and in those entries, when you don't put a name or face to her, the things that you want to happen with her are aggressive, carnal…"

"Primal. There is nothing wrong with that, or with me!"

"Maybe not, but you write it with shame. In the same bodies, you put phrases such as 'so help me,' or declare 'I shouldn't feel this way, but...' If there's nothing wrong with it, why is the tone of the writing laced with shame and guilt?"

"Because some of it is stuff that everyone says you shouldn't feel or want to do. Some of it is blasphemous. Some of it sounds psychotic. Some of it is gritty and raunchy and terrifying. None of it is your fucking business!" He snatched the journal away from him.

"It became my business when we lost you for the days that you wouldn't respond to us. Did you go some place else?"

"I'm not telling you shit!" He held his journal close to him.

"As it stands, right now, you're not giving me anything to help you out. Is Bukowski threatening you? Is Surette harming you? Are you not seeing these things as such because of your abusive childhood, or are they not happening to you, in truth?"

"Nobody's done nothing to me," Stevie said.

"Okay. Then… Nobody's going anywhere."

"Okay."

"Our hour is almost over, if you want to leave early." Stevie quickly got up and Campion said, "If you care as much as you say you do, hopefully, we can deal with your trauma before you bring it into the sanctuary."

Stevie stared at him for a moment, wondering if he had fucking _memorized_ his journal. But, he steeled his face and replied, "I am godless," before leaving.

 _ **Temple**_

 _If her body is a temple, I must rush into the sanctuary._

 _I'll defile every inch of this edifice, and vandalize her walls with my graffitti._

 _Inside of her, I know I'll find faith._

 _I'll yield to her will and be baptized in her nectar._

 _A sacrifice at her altar, my own broken spirit -_

 _Inside of her, being reborn in her womb._

 _Life drips off of the taste of her lips and I'm given the gift of it any time that we kiss._

 _I know I don't deserve this, the sinner that I am._

 _But, if her body is a temple, I would let my soul be damned -_

 _To deflower this holy place with every drop of my dark spirit…_

 _This destruction is my religion, I am godless, I'm a fiend._

 _But I know that I have faith in everything within her shrine._

.

"Can I use your FB account?" Cheerio asked Stevie, breaking into his concentration on trying to not be angry about the fact that Dr. Campion, and possibly others had read his very personal thoughts about somany things!

"As long as you're not tryin' to holler at an old boyfriend…" He tried to joke, but she seemed… off. She was sad or something. His brain was foggy, but he could see that something wasn't right with her. The cheer wasn't there. "You okay?"

"Are you?" She asked back, not immediately. She tried to lie to him, but then knew that she probably wouldn't be able to, before avoiding the question altogether.

"They've changed my meds, so I'm super mellow right now, aka super depressed. But, I guess that beats being explosively violent." He shrugged his shoulders and she just turned her head towards the computer cart. "Where is Dani?" He asked, wishing that she would interrupt them soon, since class was probably over now.

"Juvie ward."

"How?"

Cheerio's eyes lowered to the floor, "You were right. I should have just listened to you. I shouldn't have tried to be some kind of fighter. I should have just shut up, minded my business, and tried to get better to go home. I started shit that I can't finish..."

After blinking in slow motion for many times, Stevie admitted, sluggishly, "I don't know what you're even talking about, and I surely don't know what, if anything, that's gotta do with how Dani ended up in juvie ward?"

"Something happened, and Dani thought that Bukowski was to blame. SO, she attacked, to try to defend me and she was put into juvie ward."

Now, he was kinda alert, a little bit pissed, "So, I attack and I stay here, Dani gets into one scuffle with that dusty bastard and she gets punished?"

"This wasn't about her violent outburst. This was a message, to me, to us… To back off. And they won. So, I'm gonna send my dad a message, say that I made it all up because I missed them and ask them to call off their lawyers."

"Are you gonna feel comfortable, lying like that to your daddy?"

"No. But, that's what I'll have to live with for trying to fight big bads that were bigger and badder than me."

"Ain't nothin' wrong with fighting big bads."

"It is when you're mostly bark and maybe tiny bites." She was going to start crying, thinking about being alone with Bukowski, in the dark and how Dani discovered her wet mattress and just _knew_ that it was him. She didn't know what he did or said, but just knowing that he did or said something was enough. She was so scared that Dani might get a lethal dosage of sedatives. She was scared about a lot. "I'll leave the fighting to the people that know how - the people who aren't afraid to…"

"Leavin' it to me?" He said, with a half smile. She forced one as well. "I'm sorry that I ever brought all that to you. You care a lot about people. I should have known that you'd wanna help people. You're very loving."

"Well, not _only_ did I _not_ help anybody, but because of me, Dani was punished. What if it's you next time? I can't tolerate that. I can't think of it."

"I'm virtually worthless, but alright."

She felt like she had been punched in the gut. "Worthless? Nobody thinks that! You've got a family that loves you, that came in here, ready to tear this place apart, brick by brick on your behalf. You have friends like me and Dani, who would put ourselves in danger to back you up, and Chase… Who forgives you everything, no matter what… I _love_ …" His eyes alerted a moment, and she shied away and stared at the table, "being your friend and having you in my life. I barely have anybody, so I can't take or risk losing you, and I don't want to hear this self-loathing bullshit, either." She got onto the computer to send her father the message:

 _Hi! Don't be alarmed by this account. It's your cherie, Cheri! I was able to get onto a friend's FB from the center. I guess you deactivated my account, because I couldn't get into it and all my passwords were saved on my devices…_

 _I just wanted to apologize for the trouble that I stirred up with my accusations. I've missed you and Rhadja, so much. I just wanted to know that you cared, even though you never come to see me. I just wanted to know that you could still care, if I needed you. I'm satisfied with the results, but I do feel bad that you began legal action. I should have just begged harder for you to come see me. I should have just told you that I tried to kill myself when I couldn't see you for the holidays. I should have just told you that I love you both and just want to see you. Instead, I lied. I pretended to be a victim. I know I wasn't raised like that, so I'm sorry. Please forgive me and don't waste any more money looking into things._

 _Cheri_

"I love being around you, too," Stevie said, out of nowhere. She smiled, softly and sadly, got up, kissed him on the hair and gathered her things to leave the table. "When I first saw you…" She paused and looked at him. He was looking elsewhere, out in front of him, someplace - the past, maybe… "You were fuzzy. I could tell that you were probably black, but I couldn't see your features. I grabbed my glasses and put them on and then I saw you, and you were so pretty. I'd been delusional for a bit, and in and out of knowing the the fuck was going on in my life… So, for a moment, I thought that I had dreamed you up. I thought that you were a figment of my imagination and I had to determine whether you were something dark or something of light." She sat back down and rested her chin on her palm. "You were so pretty, I thought light, at first. But, I remembered my mama telling me how the Devil will dress up as the thing that you desire the most, and I said… she's gotta be something dark. Look at her. Look at how much you like what you see."

He laughed and shrugged his shoulder, "Then, I also thought about the fact that I didn't even know that you were fake, yet. So, I reached out and I touched you. You noticed me for the first time, that day. I didn't know that you had seen me before. I didn't know that you knew who I was. I thought… There's a living angel here, and I don't know what I might do… or what she might do. And I was afraid, for both of us."

He scribbled in his journal, while he talked, "Then, whenever I was like… half out of my mind on meds, I remember you coming to me again. You came to me, and I saw you. You were close enough to my face that I could see you clearly, when I was medicated. I tried to touch you again. I had forgotten that you were real. It was the same feeling, but sluggish. And I touched you and I saw and knew again that you were real. But, I wasn't scared that time, for either of us. I was relieved. Because, whether you were angel or demon, whether you would do something, or I would… I could see… I could _sense_ that you were there for me. I don't know why it mattered, but I think about that a lot. Maybe, I was foreshadowing, Maybe, I was willing it to happen. But… You were there for me before I knew I needed you. So, if you need me, I hope that you'll reach out and know that I'm here for you too." She didn't realize that she was crying until he stopped talking. He didn't look back at her until then, either. He said, "But, I'm still gonna call you a punk ass for cryin' about this shit. Grow balls, Chump." She took a swing at him, and playfully hit his shoulder, laughing.

"You're the punk ass for even having feelings like that, so shut up!" They sat quietly for a moment, then she said, "You booped my nose that day. I wrote it down. I called it a purposeful boop. Today, I have learned that I was right."

"You love being right, don't you?"

"Almost as much as I love being your best friend." She smiled, for real, this time. He had cheered her up and she didn't even know if he realized how much. In fact, he went back to his journal, and didn't even look up at her again. All she wanted to do was kiss him and thank him.


	14. Like Your Favorite Tune

_Y'all probably wouldn't have even cared but I messed up the continuity on this. This Steerio thing initially did not take this long to start up. But I realized that her birthday would have fallen at the wrong time, in relation to the other events of the series. So I just extended their stuff. This means later in the stories - the timelines are not going to match up, but I don't get paid enough to fix all of that. I'm the worst. I know._

 _Sidenote: JJ Totah (Myron's FC came out as trans Josie Totah while I was in the midst of editing this chapter. It made me smile. That is all.)_

 **Like Your Favorite Tune**

Cheerio awoke to a drawing slid beneath her door. She picked it up and saw a colored pencil sketch of Tesla giving her a hug. Tesla had drawn it. She recognized her artwork, as the woman often spent hours drawing and doing nothing else. She sometimes would sit her in room, doing the same, because she was allotted colored pencils, as long as nobody else could reach them (since she was neither violent or suicidal). Cheerio didn't know whether to smile or frown. Was this _empathy_ or more terror from Bukowski, using his victim as an instrument? She didn't know what was going on in that woman's head… Just that she was in his pocket, somehow. Whether or not Tesla knew how much of a tool she was for him, Cheerio didn't know how to take this gesture. Olive branch or threat? She hated that being here had made her so paranoid. She was one to try to see the good in people and see their potential. But she was a pissy mattress beyond rose colored glasses days, now. She set the drawing on her nightstand before getting ready for the day and opening her door up.

Without Surette coming around to force her to go to breakfast, she decided to just hangout, in her room, where she felt safer than she did out there. That, and with it being close to Valentine's Day, ergo, close to her birthday, she didn't want to be… alive.

She was about to have been alive for 16 years and it would be spent inside of this place - where her life had literally been threatened and she'd peed herself over it. If she EVER got out of this place, it would be her motivation to never, ever, ever wind up this far off balance again. She would rather die than ever have to spend another night here.

Why was she even still here? It had been at least a year since the last time she made an attempt on her life. It had been months since she got into a fight, not counting that little scuffle with Pendleton. It had been weeks since she had an explosion, and many moons before that since the previous time.

There was NO WAY that she was that different from most of the kids at McKinley. In addition to that fact, several other kids had come and gone by now. She watch them come get better and leave. Yet here she was feeling not better but _better,_ and still not going anywhere.

Now, just a few days shy of 16, her mind was clouded. All of her old associates probably wouldn't even remember her, or the fact that she was supposed to have the most epic Super Sweet Sixteen that any of them had ever seen. Her parents probably didn't still have the sixteen pink flowers that she was going to use to turn the entire site into a Pink Paradise. She never got around to being able to take driver's ed, so she wouldn't be getting a car of her choice, pimped out to be a pink _Black Barbie_ -mobile. She had designed the layout, plotted the portraits of herself that she was going to have commissioned to line the hallway, as the Queen of Pink Diamonds. She was going to have a gown TO DIE FOR, created by one of her mother's fashion designer friends.

Now, she was probably going to simply splurge on a cupcake and not tell anyone her birthday, so that it wasn't awkward. It wasn't like they could get her anything. She had kept it a secret all of this time because she honestly expected to be out by now, but to mention it after all this time might seem needy. Knowing her parents, she was being left longer for making them waste their time and money on opening up legal matters, then recanting.

Chase passed by her room, paused, turned around, came back and peeked in, then left… "Chase!" She called. "Come in." He nervously came in holding something. "What is it?"

"I was able to go to the store with the field trip group. I found you a thing." He handed her a card with a red envelope. "None of us knew when your actual birthday is. Myron said 'around Valentine's Day… But, that didn't give us a date. So we decided to use Valentine's Day as your Happy Birthday." She accepted the card and forced a smile and a thanks. He quickly left, afterwards.

They were friends again, but he was leery about being _too_ friendly with her, certain that was how Stevie got to the point where he would set him up with Pendleton the way that he did.

Chase came back to the young adults' wing, but he was spending more time hanging out with Tesla than his old crew. She was one of the few people closer to his age, who Chase could talk to and not be intimidated by.

That was probably good for him, but Cheerio was concerned that placed him in too close proximity to Bukowski… and that dude was… Even worse than Stevie had seemed to think. She could _never_ tell him that he'd threatened her and mortified her all in one visit. Stevie would probably try to kill him. She semi smiled about that. It would suck, because he'd totally get sent away.

However, there was something so alluring about having somebody be so into you that he was willing to fight and even fight dirty for your approval or safety.

She felt guilty at how good it made her feel how he flipped out about her being in danger while he was in the middle of that breakdown. Even though it was heartbreaking to see him so powerless, it stirred her up to know that she still mattered to him. She wrote in her notepad, _I am literally the worst._ Years from now, she would have no idea what that meant. She didn't want to relieve such a shameful emotion.

.

Stevie had been pretty quiet since his sessions with Dr. Campion began. He seemed scared to get close, again. He'd already obviously let the ripples smooth out over the whole Surette-Bukowski vendetta. She just _knew_ that he did this with her in mind - worried about retaliation and repercussions. So, sometimes, the protection was sexy. Sometimes (like now), it was frustrating.

More frustrating was the wedge that was between them. She didn't know if it was because of what she knew Bukowski made him do (even though she didn't tell him that she knew), because even though he didn't know that she knew about it, he knew what he had done and she believed that it would be something that would trouble him. Especially because he probably _did_ enjoy himself. He'd enjoyed whenever he was being molested, because he thought that a warm, wet hole meant pleasure. So, there was probably some guilty pleasure in the whole Allie-Ann thing. She shuddered at Bukowski's goading about it. To say that he loved someone, then to just show someone else how he orchestrated something so gross to happen to her.

Perhaps this wedge between her and Stevie was because she had lit a fire underneath the Evanses and apparently, they were NOT okay about it! Finding out that Stevie basically claimed that there was not a single problem between himself and either of the orderlies and that he wasn't sure why anybody thought that there was made his sister furious.

Whenever the family finally was able to visit after all of that, Cheerio walked Stevie to where he generally met up with and left them, wondering, "Are they going to be mad at me for causing them a panic?" She wondered.

"No. They're gonna be mad at me if they realize that I lied." That made her sad, so Stevie tried to help, "But, _they_ don't have to be here. _We_ do. They don't know how this is. What if there was an investigation ibto those orderlies, and after our complaints, they weren't found guilty? They'd fuck with us from sunup to sundown and maybe I could deal with that, but you're sensitive and shit… And you shouldn't _have_ to deal with it."

"We shouldn't have to deal with the stuff that they've done, either."

"Well, they can't get away with as much, with more orderlies working now, and more security. I gotta… I don't know - try to have some goddamn faith that I made the right choice to keep you… as safe as I have the power to."

"Thank you," she said and hugged him. Then, she tipped up her toes to kiss him and he met it, hungrily, but paced himself for the slow nibbling of her lips. She cupped his face, ended it with a peck, then noticed his family walking up. "Shit. I'm sorry!"

"For what?" he asked, but she was already trying to rush away, before the family reached them. Stevie barely wanted to let go of her hand, and didn't even realize that he had her hand until she was trying to leave. He reluctantly let go and watched her rush off, shyly and nervously.

 _Such a cute awkward fuckin' idiot. Why was she walking through the wet ass grass in mumu shoes? Her feet were gonna be soaked and she'd get sick._ He shook his head…

"Stevie?" Stacie called. He turned around, a little alarmed by her concerned tone, but she threw her arms around him and hugged him tightly, sobbing. "You're okay. I thought that they had broken you when we received word back from Holly." She let go and looked at him, "What? Happened? What did they do to you to make you back down?"

"Nothing. I flipped out and had a long episode. Now, the credits have rolled. Y'all wanna go in? It's cold.." He headed inside with them following and took up a seat.

Dwight said, "You gave us all quite a scare." He was still studying Stevie for a sign of distress. Apparently none of them believed that he was fine.

Stevie said, "That was Cheerio who gave you a scare. I was strapped to a bed screaming at people. It happens. We're not alright. I made her think that I was in danger and she went into protective mode. I was just bein' paranoid. I can't make it make any sense to y'all, because it _don't_ make sense.

"

Sam asked, "But… Nobody's messing with you? You're okay? There's no abuse, malpractice, anything sinister?"

"The orderlies are kinda pissed that lawyers were sent in, but that's to be expected. Y'all… _do_ realize that I'm in a crazy house, right? How can anybody trust me flipping out about people? I was shitty at knowing people before I got here. I just wanna… live and not feel weird. This interrogation ain't helping me."

Stacie shook her head, "Okay, so maybe you got a little bit paranoid and said some things or thought some things that didn't happen, but why would Cheerio co-sign it and how does that excuse that I caught that brute grabbing her by the arm and he admitted to calling her an ugly name?"

Stevie sighed, "Because she's a patient here too and just as unstable?" and shrugged his shoulders, "She cares too much. She wanted somebody on my side, even if I was wrong. What did he call her? Not "the N word," or the "C" word? He's usually not that bold, but I heard she was challenging his every move."

Stacie answered, "I love that you're trying to remove those terms from your vocab. But, he was tryin' to be cute with it, like he was tryin' to be with you. Called her Cheery Hoe."

Stevie snorted out a laugh and shook his head, "That could have been GOLDEN, if the source was anybody else. Damn. Dani would have loved that one."

"She did. She said it was rich… Wait… What do you mean _would have?_ Did something happen to her?"

"They sent her to the criminal ward because she attacked an orderly." He couldn't give them more detail without reigniting their concern. Seeing Stacie appear to be about to have further questions, he continued, "Look… I'd had a really rough time. I'd been watching the news, seeing the court coverage, and Mama's photos everyday. Y'all all over the place talking about your feelings to the world, while I'm stuck here. And Kyle... I've seen him and every time I do; I think about that night. I can't even repress it anymore, because the coverage kept addressing the details and I kept seeing Kyle's face, Mama's face, how it was before. I'd started to not think about her, because then I had to think about what happened. But, the case, and the verdict in general made me have to drudge it all up. It triggered a lot." ( _That much was completely true_ ). "I guess in all that turmoil and sorting through it, I had some delusions about Surette and Bukowski and I pushed them off on Cheerio too, because she was just about the only person that I could let anywhere near me. Now, I have to sort through it in sessions with Dr. Campion and they are rough and tiring. Please, don't make me have to sort through it with y'all, with this little time that we've got together." (That part was true, except for the delusions. It wasn't the biggest lie he'd ever told them and because he mixed so much hurtful truth in with it, it would work).

Dwight nodded, "We'll leave it alone." He nodded to Sam and Stacie, basically ordering them to stand down, "But, Stevie, if you ever tell us that somebody's doing you wrong, of course we're stepping in. And if we're wrong, I'd rather us be wrong and you be okay than for us to just ignore you and then something happens to you."

Stevie sighed. "I appreciate that." He looked at Stacie.

Her lips were pursed and her nose turned upward. She didn't believe one portion of his recant. But, she didn't dwell on it. There wasn't much else that she could do. "I brought you a blank Valentine's Day card, for Cheerio." She changed the subject.

"I ain't giving her no Valentine's thing. That's stupid."

Stacie argued, "You gave her a Christmas thing."

"That was different. _Anybody_ can give you something for Christmas. If I do a Valentine's Day thing, then that'll seem like I'm tryna be official or something. We all know that don't need to be a thing."

"But you licking her tonsils can be a thing," Stacie said, under her breath.

"I didn't ask for that _. She_ kissed _me!"_ He argued, fighting off a smile. _And it was delicious._ He had always wondered what she tasted like. Today, she tasted like chocolate. She had tons of types of lip gloss. He wanted to be able to lick every flavor from her mouth...

"We couldn't help but notice that you hated it so much," Sam said and winked an eye at him, taking him from his kissing fantasy.

Dwight wondered, "Is she going to be your new.. Um… Whatever the equivalent to a girlfriend is in here?"

"She's always been that," Stacie said. "Since we've known of her, at least."

"We're just _friends,_ and we use that word pretty liberally. I'm not even positive that we like each other as people, and yet in this place, we can be best friends. It's a magical place where nothing makes sense and nobody cares one way or the other as long as you eat your meals and take your pills." Stevie said, slightly distracted by Myron and Chase singing happy birthday to Cheerio over a cafeteria cupcake.

"...Is today her birthday?" Stacie asked, feeling bad that they didn't know, so couldn't do anything for her.

"No," he said, but he wasn't even sure. When the hell _was_ her birthday? Had they ever talked about that, during their little adventure as 'best friends?' Wait… What was her middle name? Her favorite color? Her favorite food? Did he even fucking know her, beyond his desires and obsession? WAS today her fucking birthday? "Today is Valentine's Day. Right?"

"Yeah, but is it also her birthday?" Stacie asked again. "They're singing like it's her birthday, Stevie."

"Naw. She didn't mention… Shit." He put his hand over his face. "Dani did say long time ago that her birthday was around Valentine's Day. We weren't friends then, so I guess I just forgot that piece of information. But, it's all coming back to me. She wanted to be gone by now! Her parents had like 16 pink flowers outside their house, because they were gonna use them for her party or something. I can't believe how clear this memory is, because I hadn't thought about it one time since then."

"What kind of flowers?" Stacie asked.

"I have no idea. She didn't say and at that time, I wouldn't have paid attention if she had," he put his head on the table, "I'm the worst fuckin' makeshift friend in history. I didn't even make her a card with the stupid art therapy supplies."

"Sing her a song. Every girl likes that," Dwight suggested.

Sam nodded his head, "I can say that singin' a girl a song has been 100% successful for me my entire life. Got me my fiancee, too."

Stevie sat up, "Sing her a song? That's gonna seem… romantic."

"Do it tomorrow. Looks like they're celebrating her birthday today. Just tell her that you've got something for her tomorrow, but as her best friend, you didn't wanna mix your thing in with the rest of today's festivities," Sam suggested.

Stevie shook his head, "No. I'm not singing her a song on any day. It'll go to her head. I'm not ready to play over another girl's emotions and I wouldn't wanna do that to her, no way. She gets attached too easily and I know that I'm not trying to romance her."

"If you just wanna reach out with some appreciation or support, a heartfelt letter does the trick, too," Dwight said.

Stevie nodded. She'd written him one and he had been carrying it around and reading it religiously ever since. He'd even gotten Dr. Fuckin' Pepper to laminate it for him, so it could last longer. "I don't know that she _wants_ to celebrate it. She hasn't said a thing about it and she's the type to speak non-stop about things that she's interested in or wants attention for. I think… They're doin' this to her and she doesn't even wanna acknowledge it. But, she's going along with it to not hurt their little feelings. Whenever I talk to her, I'ma fake fart on her. That's all I'm gonna do." Stacie and Sam laughed. Dwight looked confused. Stevie kept a straight face. That was truly what he was gonna do, as soon as they left.

But, she retired to her room early,exhausted from all of the attention she was getting from the wrong people. Before she went to sleep (read as passed out in her bed with the door wide open), she left Stevie a note on his bed, apologizing for kissing him like that in public and for the fact that not only did people have to see it, but that his family saw it too.

He was annoyed. He didn't know that she believed that was still an issue for him… but she was sleeping when he peeked into her room.

.

A few days later, Stevie wandered past the visiting room and paused when he saw her, then hid to get a good look at her. Her makeup was fashioned like she had spent hours on it - not her typical mascara and lip gloss, but a full face. Her hair was extra curly, pinned up, and adorned with crystals and pink flowers. The short little dress that she had on hugged her figure, but looked more cute than it did sexy... He stared for a while longer as he decided whether or not to approach her.

She looked sad and that was never good, not for somebody like her, so he made the choice to go in.

The last time he'd left her with her sadness, she'd tried to off herself. She looked sadder right now than she had, that time. He felt guilty for thinking that she also looked really pretty… like even prettier than usual and low-key kinda getting a boner looking at her… but that wasn't necessarily new, just maybe.. inappropriate, considering her mood.

Sometimes, when she was angry, he'd be harder than the rock and the hard place that he'd be in between looking at her. Sometimes, when she was sad, he just wanted to do any and everything to make it all better, especially if something sexual could make it better. She was sexy when she was mad. She was sexier when she was sad.

Lately, he had been keeping his distance. Bukowski and Surette were off of their backs and he wanted to keep his nose clean and his head on straight. She could be a real distraction, if he let her. He was determined not to let her do that until he saw her in that dress.

"Why are you all dressed up?" He asked, without offering any type of greeting. Her eyes didn't follow the sound of his voice like they usually did when he appeared. Something was really troubling her.

"I wanted to look good for my mother, but I guess that my parents aren't coming." Her voice was small and insecure, but he still couldn't help but to let out a little chuckle as he took a seat across from her.

"Uhm, I have literally seen everyone's parents BUT yours, since I got here. Why would your parents be coming today? Is it a special day or something?" He asked, staring at her, waiting for her to snap at him or fight back or.. something..

Her eyes were damp and her lip quivered until she bit it to still it and blew out a hard, trembly breath as she released it. Her eyebrows danced around on her face as she slid the card to him.

He read it, "Happy Birthday from Mom and Dad. We'll come to see you. Love, Dad." He glared at the card, for the audacity of a promise like that to somebody.. with her delicate feelings.

He'd forgotten that quickly that her birthday was nearby (his meds made his brain super fuzzy), but he checked the date. _The 18th._ He'd never forget it again. "Well… The day isn't over yet. Maybe, they'll be here later. I can wait with you, so you don't look like some ditched prom date."

She checked her watch, "Visiting hours are almost over. My parents… aren't coming," she said with a broken voice. "I'm not sure why I let myself believe that they might." The tears started falling and he got up to join her on her side of the table and wrapped an arm around her.

"I'm sorry, Cheerio… You shouldn't have to spend your Sweet 16 with me," he said and kissed her on the temple. It happened so naturally, he didn't even realize that he was doing it until it had been done and she looked up at him, expecting to find him horrified with himself for the slip up… but… he pressed his forehead to hers and whispered, "Happy Birthday, anyway.."

Now… Now… They had been on and off (or hot and cold), in and out of feelings, giving and taking affection, then backing away from it altogether, but she felt like the earth had moved under her feet when he gave her that simple and casual kiss. They had been in one of their "off" periods since the "Batshit Epi," but, there was something about that... Like… He wasn't denying her, even with people around. Even with the orderlies monitoring and walking around. She snuggled into his side and let his warmth cover her. This was something he'd typically only allow in private. PDA with no PDP?

When he walked her to her room, he said, "I thought that they make you call them by first names."

"Yeah, but if it's written, Champ would put down Mom and Dad, because he isn't the crazy person who denies being old enough to have a teenage daughter."

"So… this looks like your dad's handwriting then?" Stevie asked, studying the card.

She stared at it, "Who else would it be though?"

"A sadist," Stevie said and looked at Bukowski, watching them. "It's odd that your parents never ever check with you, but then send this vague ass birthday card after all that bullshit went down, and don't even follow through? Wouldn't it make more sense that they just omitted today altogether as per usual and that someone else was playing a joke on you with this?"

She smiled a little. "I don't know what makes more sense and I don't know which is better or worse. But thank you for at least trying to cheer me up. And super thank you for spending time with me." He blew a raspberry on the top of her cleavage and she swatted him, gently and playfully on the backside.

They stared at each other for a moment and he put his hands in his pockets, "Night, Dude," he said and rushed off, blushing and grumbling. She didn't know if he was mad at her or himself, or for what reason, but he was back on her radar in a way that she thought that she was over.

She found herself spending hours at night thinking about him. How casually and playfully he had touched her. It had been similar to how he touched Dani, so she could always credit it to the fact that they were on this heavy "We're friends," campaign. But, in the numerous months that she spent watching him, she never saw him look at anybody the way that he looked at her. She knew not to simply what what a boy says. He had admitted a few times that he liked her, wanted her, cared about her, whatever. But, her parents and the behavior of boys had taught her that boys lie to girls, sometimes for no reason other than to gain more from them.

And that casual kiss? It wasn't like when she couldn't hold back from kissing him in the past. _He_ initiated that and he did it gingerly and held her and didn't look around uncomfortably to see if anyone was watching.

She didn't know if that was because he didn't care what anybody thought anymore (a full meltdown in front of everybody might be the reason for that rise in confidence) or, maybe he just didn't really care enough about her to think twice about it.

It troubled her to the point that she couldn't sleep. She felt like she had to figure this out. Like she had to test him… Not the same way that he'd tested her! She'd never go so far. But… Innocently. Semi-innocently…

"Do I stink today?" She wondered.

Myron, Chase and Stevie all furrowed their eyebrows at this question, which she was addressing towards Stevie. "I don't know what you're tryin' to pull, but my mama didn't raise no fool. You never stink. That's the right answer."

She sniffed at her shirt and her armpits. "I know, but I don't know - I don't smell like myself. Like, something's off. Did they change the detergent?" She leaned closer to him, with her shirt slightly up, pulling the material to put in his face.

He leaned away from it, but couldn't help staring at her belly button as he did, and the top seam of her panties,because her khakis rode low. "If there's something gross in your clothing, I swear, I'm gonna bop you upside the head!" He fussed. She moved in so close that her bellybutton was practically touching his nose and he stopped struggling and stared at it, open mouthed and slightly perspiring. His hands unconsciously wrapped around her back and he pulled her in and inhaled her, then shut his eyes and fought off the urge to kiss the belly, too. "No. You don't stink, okay. You smell like soap and flowers and flesh." He shoved her away from him, now. She sat down and smelled her own wrists and fingers. "You are a fuckin' weirdo."

"Okay, but I think I need new lotion or something!" He grabbed her arm, smelled her wrist and she brushed it gently against his lips. Stevie said, frustrated, "You smell good! _Really, really_ good. Is that what you wanted me to say?" He flung her arm away from him, got up and left the table.

Myron shook his head and said, "I wouldn't tease somebody _that_ sexually frustrated and _that_ easily angered. I'm sure it just reminds him of the fact that not only can't he have you, but that he hasn't been with anyone else in a while. He's gotta be volatile right now. Proceed with caution."

"You're a smart kid," Chase said. He looked at Cheerio and observed, "Stevie gave up his one known way of fooling around when he gave up Pendleton. Dr. Campion has made it harder for people to do anything, with all these cameras around, and Stevie is a person who needs to release… well… often."

"Cameras aren't in the bedrooms," Cheerio said.

"No, but they do rounds and account for everyone, when they do these rounds," Myron reminded her.

She jotted something down in her notepad, as Bukowski returned to the common room from doing his rounds. "They do rounds every 30 minutes. That's more than enough time for a casual handjob, right?"

"What is a _casual_ handjob? Aren't they all, by definition kinda intimate?" Chase asked, shyly, blushing profusely.

Myron replied, "Yes. She's rationalizing her foolish intentions."

"I've gotta go," she said and left the table to catch up with Stevie.

Myron called out, "Casual handjobs aren't real!" Everyone, including Stevie turned around, but Cheerio kept going, like he didn't say anything.

Stevie asked, "What did he say?"

"Some hater stuff," she said and kept walking. "What's wrong with you? Why are you mad all of a sudden?"

"I don't like playing these games with you. I have way too much fucked up in my head to do it."

"Why do you feel like it's games?"

"I want you too much to do this with you."

"Wait. What?" She smiled brightly. "You _want_ me?" She moved closer to him and he bit his lip, trying not to say anything else. "Cornflake, I want you too. I have this whole time and we were waiting on you to make this happen."

"And then I told you that I couldn't. I still can't. And I still don't expect you to wait for me."

"These are sounding like excuses. Is this because of the Allie-Ann mess? Because, I understand and I don't blame you…"

"What Allie-Ann mess?" He asked, sharply. She widened her eyes and stuttered, but he shook his head and said, "Know what? Nevermind. I'm going. Please, leave me to myself."

.

Bukowski knocked on her door and she jumped from her torturous daydream about how hurt Stevie looked to learn that she knew. Now, here was the peasant that caused that rift. She stared at him with wide, worried eyes, "You got a delivery," he said. She warily got up and walked up to him. He stayed where he was, but she didn't want to walk in front of him, so he rolled his eyes and said, "Sandy has it at the station," he left muttering, "Starting shit then acting all victimized and shit…"

She went to the desk and saw a bouquet of her sixteen pink flowers and she gasped upon seeing Stevie trying to stick a card into it. "HWAT IS THIS?" she asked while simultaneously sucking in air.

He turned red, "I was gonna skip your birthday because you didn't seem interested. But whenever you were sad about your parents not showing up, I realized that it _did_ matter and you were just trying not to get your hopes up. Since your hopes have already been crashed, I figured can't hurt to do something nice."

She approached and wondered, "Will they let me take it to my room?" Sandy smiled and nodded. Cheerio grabbed her bouquet and said, "I wish I could take a photo of it, before it dies!"

"I'm sure Stacie did…"

"This is from her?"

"No, idiot. It's from ME, she just did all the work."

She rolled her eyes then said, "Stacie's my boyfriend, now. She can't get out of it." Now _he_ rolled his eyes. "How did she know the flowers?"

"She searched for your parents' house online. They didn't have the flowers at the house anymore, but she found photos, then spent a lot of energy figuring out what flowers she was looking at. The letter is from me."

She moved everything from her night stand to put the pink safety vase on it and admire her flowers. Then, she grabbed her note. Stevie awkwardly sat on the foot of the bed and she read it.

 _Cheerio,_

 _My daddy told me to write a heartfelt letter. My brother told me sing a song. My sister wanted me to give you a valentine._

 _All of their asses were wrong._

 _Who the hell cares about the colors of roses and violets?_

 _We don't ever get to stop to smell the flowers._

 _And nobody even understands the things that we're thinking or going through…_

 _So all of our gestures are what's within our powers._

 _I didn't even know you and I hated you. Now that I know you, I can't remember how I could ever._

 _I'm not sure what kinda person tosses somebody like you aside, but as long as I'm in touch with my right mind, I would never._

 _This is so stupid. I'm living up to my corny ass name I guess, you're probably laughing your cute little ass off now._

 _If you're reading this, that means I've given something sweet a try and I shouldn't be judged for it._

 _But Happy Birthday, anyhow._

 _Cornflake._

 _P.S. I don't think you're supposed to PS a poem, but I just realized that cheerios and cornflakes are both disgusting cereals. I mean, I knew they were disgusting long time ago,but, I mean I never thought about how our nicknames are both cereal, and also, I hate both of these cereals, but I like us, though. Especially together._

There was some laughter, some getting choked up and some stirring in her lady parts. She set it down and said, "I'll cherish this forever." She crawled over to him and whispered in his ear, "You like us together?"

He tensed up and chuckled, "We're friends, yeah? SO, yeah. I like us together."

"Friends should be cozy," she said and reached in between his thighs, kissing him on the ear.

"Fffffffffffffffuck… You need to not. You're having a crisis from your parents not showing up for your birthday."

"So?"

"So, I've fucked over enough girls. I don't wanna do that."

"Then... just be good to me," she told him and rubbed her hand across the front of his jeans. "Unless you don't think that you can…" she withdrew her hand suddenly feeling sheepish.

Stevie got up to shut her door and return to her, collected her into his arms, and said very solemnly, "That's all I want… to be good to you…"

"So, do it."

He smiled, sighed, and pressed his forehead to hers. "I can't. I'm sorry. I'm no good."

"Okay, then… Give me whatever you have and I'll appreciate it," she said, whimpering, almost desperately. He had never heard her sound that way before and as much as he wanted to be a better person, there was nothing that could stop him from giving in to her.

He kissed her and she melted against him, letting it happen and encouraging it. His kisses began to travel down her face and neck and bosom. He leaned her down onto her bed, still kissing her and then climbed on top of her. "You realize that if they catch you in here…" she let out a long gasp and made no further argument when he slid down and began to lick her underwear. "Stevie…" she moaned, but had to bury her face in her pillow when his mouth got a bit more eager.

After a while, he came back up, tossed her pillow aside, and kissed her mouth. He could taste her just as well through her panties and he was trying really hard not to rip them off and fuck her into the mattress. Her eyes were barely open. She was enchanted by him, until she heard the hard knocking of an orderly. "Cheerio, are you in there?"

"Yes! But, I'm not decent."

"Cover up and show your face. You got 60 seconds." Stevie slid off of the bed and hid on the side of it while she went to the door to greet Bukowski.

Pretending not to be timid when she saw him was hard. "You _know_ that you're not supposed to be shut up in here before lockdown." He leaned to look into the room, but she stopped him from coming in to check with a distraction.

"I was depressed. Just turned 16. My parents never show. I just wanted some alone time, then I started masturbating. Thought that might help."

He paused from going further in and smiled a little. "Ooh La La. Did it help?"

"Not really, but I got interrupted. Guess that Plan B of crying until I'm exhausted will have to do."

"Well, it sucks that you feel bad, but try not to break the rules just because your feelings are hurt. You need a sedative to help you sleep?"

"Yes, please?"

"I'll be right back. Leave. This. Door Open."

"Yes, Sir." When he walked off she whispered, "Stevie!" And he crawled over, peeked out of the door, got up, kissed her again, and squeezed her hand; before he darted into the hallway to try to make it to his room.

Bukowski returned and watched her take the pills then he locked the door. She got back into bed and finally peeled the damp panties off. Without that sedative, she wouldn't have gotten a wink of sleep. She would have been too worried wondering what the hell did I just do? Why? And did that just seriously happen?


	15. My Heart's A Stereo That Only Plays for

**My Heart's a Stereo That Only Plays for You**

Stevie couldn't stop thinking about what had happened. He was worried about doing too much with/to her, in case she came down with buyer's remorse. He'd certainly had less pretty, not rich, unsure of themselves girls to regret letting him anywhere near them after the fact. His last ex had written him a four page letter enclosed with wrath and regret, after he had gotten here. He had a pretty terrible track record with girls - either being overly into him when he wasn't as emotionally dedicated, the reverse being true generally because he came on too strong, when he was interested (a slippery slope that often kept him confusedly reacting in opposite ways whenever he felt something for someone).

But, he had a feeling that Cheerio was on board with this and even more. She liked him. She wanted him. She sometimes even seemed like she needed him. He would go so far as to dare to think that she might love him, if he wasn't such a realist. She… could love him, if he was better, if he got better, did better - basically, if he proved himself. He had to decide that he was willing to do that. And he had to decide it before he _ever_ uttered any words about his true feelings. He wasn't about to be hurt by her the way that he knew she already had the power to. He had to simply enjoy whatever it was that she was doing with him right now.

Sure, the timing felt suspicious, in proximity to the rejection of her parents, and he himself still had trouble lurking in his mind. It felt good to have her verbally exonerate him of his Allie-Ann "mess," as she labeled it. But, just the thought of her knowing made him feel sick to his stomach. He didn't want her to know that any more than he wanted her to know about what he had done to Chase.

Now, she knew both of these things and she still seemed to think that she still wanted him. His smile threatened to freeze on his face until Bukowski caught up with him in the hallway. "Where are you coming from?" The ginger orderly asked.

Stevie frowned and lied, "The common room."

Bukowski made a buzzer sound, "Try again." He was staring Stevie down and Stevie was determined not to let his night be ruined.

He was gonna go into his room, savor the flavor fresh on his taste buds and reminisce about every detail of that half hour until he fell asleep. "Check the cameras," Stevie snapped and folded his arms.

"And what if the cameras show me something that I don't like?"

"Do your job, I guess!" Stevie retorted and stormed into his room, trying to isolate himself before an outside force ruined his plans of reliving the taste of Cheerio. He went into his room and smelled his fingers, repeatedly. He kept things up until he went to take a shower, relieve himself and get ready for bed. He didn't get any sleep, though. He thought about her for most of the night, wrote about her for part of it, and dreamed of her for the rest of it.

Bukowski _did_ check the cameras. Stevie and Cheerio had went into the youth wing hallway after leaving the nurses station and went into her room. A little while later, Stevie closed the door and then about 30 minutes later, he snuck out whenever Bukowski went to get sedatives.

Bukowski chuckled to himself and shook his head. "Okay. This is what he's doing."

He went to put Allie-Ann's hair up for the night and wondered, "If I asked you to do a favor for me, are you my girl?" She frowned and looked at him in confusion. He didn't really ask her for things, unless he knew that she would hate whatever he was asking. In general, he usually just gave her orders, and as someone submitted to him she usually it just took them. "I wanna know what Evans and Cheerio are doing in the bedroom…" she shook her head. "Come on, Baby. Be my girl. What if they get me fired? That was a close call last time. I was scared that they'd take me away from you..."

He stooped in front of her looking into her eyes and cuffed her chin, "Allie-Ann… I need you to be my good girl and see what happens in the room when they sneak in…"

She shrugged her shoulders, nonchalantly and whispered, "Hormones." They were teenagers, after all.

"Well, I gotta be sure." She pursed her lips, annoyed, but seemed to ponder it until he asked, "Can you set the babygirl cam in there, for me?" Now, she gasped. She thought he expected her to befriend them and somehow ask, but he was talking about creepily _spying_ on them… on _her -_ a teenager that he looked way too hard at already. She got up from her seat and took the comb from him. "Babygirl…"

"No," she hissed in a whisper.

"Are you being a brat to try to get yourself a bareback spanking?" He asked, placing his hands on his hips. She collected him by the elbow, escorted him to the door, gently pushed him out, and shut it on him. "Because you're gonna get one!" He called from the other side. She fumed for a bit. Punched her pillow multiple times before frustrated crying. He opened up his feed to the camera that he kept inside of her room, on his phone to watch her rage in jealousy about his request. Bukowski put the camera into her room shortly after they got involved, because he "hated not being able to spend real time with her and just wanted to be able to check in and see how she was." Sometimes, she would put on a show for him, at his request. She also had a nightly scheduled performance to give him, whether or not he could access it at the time. She never missed her schedule, even if she didn't know where the camera was. It was pretty much programmed into her, now.

He smirked to himself and promised that he would visit her after his last rounds, before his shift switch. She was _owed_ a spanking. He actually wanted to devour her right now and make her cream on his tongue, while she was jealous. He loved when he did that to her. Then he would tell her how good she tasted when she was jealous, embarrassing her, yet she still wouldn't resist him.

Sometimes, he'd flirt with, or exchange sexual messages with, other women, for the sake of bringing the proof back to her to flaunt it in her face. He would tell her to sign herself out of the home and come to live with him, but she was comfortable here, and she knew that she was safe. Out there, in the world… anything could happen. A home invasion. Another abduction and torture event in the woods. An abduction that led to her death... Here, the worse case scenario was the rare possibility that mass murderer might come in. The least bad thing that happened here was when someone stole her red colored pencil. Plus, he was usually working _anyway._ He worked at least 50 hour weeks. If she left, she would be at his home by herself, anyway!

She was looking for the camera (probably to turn it off in her tantrum, but he'd moved it around, so she would have to search if she wanted to make him suffer). Ever so often, he switched the location of the camera while she was in the common room, so that she couldn't find it and turn it off whenever she was mad. That was one of her pet peeves. When she gave him permission to place it there, she felt like she should have authority over whether or not he could access it. He would eventually tell her where he moved it to, but it was still another way that he was able to assert power over her. It was one of the few that actually made her upset.

.

Dr. Campion had left the campus with confidence that his changes would help the staff run things more efficiently. He still returned for his sessions with Stevie and for staff meetings, but wasn't stationed there any longer.

Stevie came into the session trying not to smile _too_ big, but aware that he had been sporadically letting his face betray him today.

Cheerio tried to avoid eye contact with him this morning at breakfast, but whenever he allowed their elbows to brush against each other or stared at her peripheral for a while, he could notice her blushing and trying to fight a smile of her own. So, she hadn't regretted it yet, but was acting shy, probably because she liked it more than she'd planned. That was what he hoped and told himself, anyway.

During sex talk in group a while back, Cheerio had casually mentioned before that she had a process that all boys went through before she engaged in intercourse with them. It was more like a rule. They had to go down on her at least three times, to her satisfaction, before she even _considered_ intercourse.

Stevie was aware that he could most likely bypass this process… but honestly, he had waited for her this long… not to mention, he would want to prove that he found her worthy of what she required. He had been obsessively thinking about how he could manage to arrange the next couple of cunnilingus dates.

"You look uncharacteristically happy today. Did something happen?" Dr. Campion asked, breaking into his daydream.

"I try not to talk about things that make me smile. Either other people won't get them or other people will judge me for them."

"I certainly can't force it out of you. But if something has happened to make you smile then it probably would be good for you to talk to me about it. That's what the sessions are for," Dr. Campion said, helping himself to a cup of tea.

"And here I thought the sessions were so you could figure out why the hell you still have a criminal with the rest of your youth."

"To be fair these sessions cover a multitude of objectives."

"Mine is always to get it over with."

Stevie had confronted Dr. Pepper about allowing Dr. Campion to read his journal. She gave him the typical spiel about how he abandoned his privacy with his outburst. He simply let her know that he could never trust her again, and he would never trust Dr. Campion either. Now, with every session he simply antagonized Dr. Campion and like he had just said, waited on these sessions to end.

"You said that you belong in the criminal ward, but you're still behaving admirably. You haven't had one incident since you were let out of restraints."

"And yet when Dani had one tantrum - ONE in almost 2 years, she was sent over?"

Dr. Campion nodded his head, "With recent allegations and a pending investigation, at the time, we decided it was best to place her under the strict care offered in that ward so that she would be able to leave when she turned 18. We didn't even count that incident against her."

"She left?" Stevie asked.

"She turned 18, and like you said, had no incidents to be concerned about," Dr. Campion said. "A better usage of your time would be to make the most of these meetings, considering that _you_ turn 18, not too far from now."

.

Bukowski wondered, curiously, "If you're hanging out with Evans in your room with the door closed, don't you need maintenance time with Weston?"

Cheerio froze and stopped eating her crushed pineapples. "Well, that's against the rules and we've gotta keep our noses clean, right?"

"Sounds like some shit Evans would say. He's rubbing off on you," he sat down, "As he rubs on you, I'm sure."

"You can't be sure, but sorry that you think we've gotten over on you, or something."

"I also went to see about New Year's Eve. The cameras show you _did_ take up my offer. You left your room after I unlocked the door and you went into his room, like I figured you would." She turned pale and lost her appetite.

"Nothing happened. He was in restraints and unconscious. All I did was check on him."

"Didn't you kiss him at Midnight? Did you Snow White him, while he was out cold?"

"I gave him a small kiss on the lips at Midnight. It was like a compulsion. You opened the door, but we had called that deal off!"

"We had, but also… You had thrown me under the bus, but I still was being a friend to you. And now, I'm curious… Do I have to worry about the footage that I saw of Evans sneaking out of your room after you lied and told me that you were in there rubbing one out?"

"Why would you have to worry about anything?"

"One of the newer orderlies catches you and you say "Bukowski allows this" or some shit and I'm already in deep water because of your last revolt."

"I'm not thinking about you," she said, casually. It was partially a lie. She didn't consider him, until he was around. "I mean - I wouldn't have any reason to tell that lie. You _don't_ allow things anymore. That's how this conversation started."

"I could. I can work around Duncan and Mario, but for what reason would I do that?"

"None that I can see," she said.

"Right. Because when I was trying to make the long experience you've had in this place better, you made accusations and almost made me lose my job."

"You threatened my life for it, so I guess we're even."

"You know that stuff was all Surette. I wanted to appeal to your forgiving heart. He thought that threats would be more efficient. I'm sorry that I scared you."

"All is forgiven, forgotten, and forsaken. I don't want to ever mention it again," she said.

He began to leave and said, "I'm glad we're friends again."

"Are we? Have we ever been?"

"Do you not want to be? That'll surely hurt my feelings." He gave her shoulders a squeeze, looked over at Tesla, pretending not to watch, and went on his way.

Cheerio shuddered, but got up and went over to Tesla. "Hey. I meant to say thank you for my drawing a few days ago. I wasn't feeling well. Tried to hide out in my room for the most part. I was a little confused to get it, though. We've never really been friends and we've never _ever_ hugged, so…" She shrugged her shoulders. "Why'd you draw me a picture?"

Tesla flashed her fingers at her "1" and "6."

"1-6...16 Oh! You did it for my 16th. I guess that Chase and Myron were telling everybody about it." She sat down and Tesla sketched a gravestone with a 15 on it, then tapped her own head. Cheerio took a moment before she decoded it. "Ahhh… Everybody felt bad that I tried to kill myself last year. That was… after the holidays, though." On the same sketchpad sheet, Tesla sketched (extremely quickly) a blond family and Cheerio with Christmas lights around it. "You draw super fast, to have this much detail in it. That's Cornflake's family and me, right? Nobody was worried about me because I had his family around. Great. Do people like talk shit about me? Get worried and shit?" Tesla started another mini sketch of Chase and drew little hearts around it. "He's a good friend, when he's not being abused or taken advantage of. You seem like you're a good friend, too. He's lucky to have you. Is this how you communicate with him?"

Tesla blew out a gust of wind and cracked her knuckles before drawing - Stevie and Cheerio exchanging notepads, then herself and Chase exchanging sketch pads. "You and Chase exchange this? Does he draw? Can I see what he draws?" Cheerio asked, excited. Tesla smiled and flipped a page to samples of different handwriting, cursive, manuscript, bubbled, etc. "He does lettering? Interesting. I never knew that Chase did that." She stared at it for a moment longer, then wondered, "Chase… Isn't upset with me or anything is he?" Tesla looked caught off guard about the question and after not being able to think of an answer that she could sketch quickly enough, she simply turned to a page in the sketchbook and put her finger over her mouth to let Cheerio know this was a secret.

 _Hi, Allie-Ann._

 _I'm really glad to be your new next door neighbor. I wanted my old room, but somebody already took it. I won't say anything about what I saw. You don't have to be nice to me to keep me quiet. I want people to just be nice to me because they like me, not to get something out of me. I had a friend like that once. Cheerio. She was good to me and I was bad to her. Then, I was punished for it. The person I turned on her for turned on me. He did bad things to me. I have a secret too. I'll tell you about it. But, only if we're going to really be friends. Not the way that people have been friends to me lately. But, like Cheerio was before I messed up. I want to save her from him. Pendleton said he would hurt her. He even said it. She's in love with him. He's poison. I want to like him again, but he's taught me too many times that he's poison._

Cheerio frowned, "I understand why he feels like that. Thank you for showing me. I won't say anything about it." She thought for a while, then wondered, "May I ask, what did Chase see?" Tesla cleared her throat, thought for a moment, then opened another sketchbook to show her a drawing of her and Bukowski, kissing. Cheerio tried not to turn up her nose. Tesla still noticed the distaste and quickly shut the book. "You… love him, don't you?" Cheerio asked. Tesla's eyes were damp, but she forced a smile as she gathered up her things. She didn't answer the question, but instead looked at her pensively. There was something else she wanted to say… she tore out the sheet that was their conversation for the day, drew a shower and two figures in it. _To hide._ She wrote.

"Hide from what?" Cheerio nervously asked. Bukowski came around and Cheerio took the drawing off of the table. Tesla tilted her head and left now pointing two fingers at her eyes.

.

Stacie reported, "He's logging into his social media during class hours. That's pretty normal…"

Dwight reminded her, "We promised to back off."

" _You_ promised to back off."

Sam offered, "We either all go hard for him, or we all simmer down."

Stacie rationalized, "It's just that I can't figure out our scale for assessing his state of mind." The Evans men looked confused. She expounded, "We know that when he was sweet on this girl, he told us that he hated her. Now, he's saying they're just friends when we all know he's crazy about her. _That's_ something that we can back off of. Puppy love in a hard place... But, what if he's doing the same thing in reverse? What if while he's saying he's okay that he's suffering as deeply as his feelings about that girl that he pretends to be casual about? What if he is seriously being attacked and he just said what was comfortable for him to say? How do I live with that?"

Dwight gave her a hug, "We can't do anything unless he speaks up. We tried already."

"Nobody ever fights for these kind of people. I don't ever want Stevie to think that I wouldn't fight for him. I just wish he'd tell the truth!"

Sam said, "I'm just glad that he's made so many positive changes. We gotta count our blessings."

"And what does Stevie count when he doesn't have the faith to even recognize blessings?"

"Hopefully, the days until he gets home."

.

Stevie was at the class table early, unable to focus on his lesson at all when finally, she showed up, gorgeous, donning a new necklace with a heart shaped jeweled pendant and a pink outfit. "Morning," she said.

He winced and replied, " _Good_ morning!"

She set up her workspace, "Was that a correction or you just speaking back in your moody voice?"

"I was greeting you but I literally hate the single word 'Morning,' as a greeting."

"The _good_ is implied!"

"Not to me. Good is never implied."

"That's because you're a grouch."

"You help me with that," he said, blushing and suddenly attentive to his notebook.

"I help everyone with that." She declared, finally sitting down. He rolled his eyes, but couldn't help but smile. She changed the subject, "So, I guess me and Tesla are friends now." He looked up with a frown. "She gave me a birthday drawing and had a sketch convo with me. She gave me this, too…" she slid the shower drawing to him.

"That's rich! Because, when they make rounds, they'll knock and if you're in the bathroom, they accept verbal confirmation that you're alright."

"What does that mean?" She asked, laughing.

"It means that you got sex ed from a mute. She's giving pointers on how not to get caught fuckin'!" Cheerio's eyes widened, because she had not known WHAT that woman meant. Stevie noted her reaction and quickly added, "If you're even interested in that. I don't know. I couldn't tell if you even enjoyed what I did…" he lowered his head but found it difficult to remove his eyes from her. Her blushing didn't help that.

"I did," she said and cleared her throat as her body tried to re-live the sensation of being touched by him.

She watched a smile spread on his face, yet he simply said, "Cool." She began doing her work and he said, "I didn't wanna scare you with all my… with all the stuff that I would have liked. I mean you said that you're not a virgin, but I could tell that you're not as accustomed to things as me."

She put her hands in her lap and nodded, "If we're being honest, I am a little bit self-conscious about everything. I didn't get much experience. Less than a year, in fact. I've tried really hard to convince you that I was desirable, when I know that you'll probably be extremely disappointed with whatever I've got." She knew she sounded pathetic, so she piped up, "But, I learn quickly, so you can teach me what you like, if you have the patience for it."

Stevie stilled his pen and stared at her, "For at least a year, I've wanted to experience you. I can't imagine any disappointment. I spent all night thinking about the exact opposite outcome."

"I passed out thinking about how I've made tally marks of at least 13 different women and girls that you've mentioned being sexually involved with and wondering how much more advanced you were and how I'd even live up to any of it."

"Are… You askin' me if I know how many girls I've been with?" Stevie wondered, now nervous, because girls never liked his uncertain answer and she was _really_ high maintenance.

"I'm _curious,"_ she corrected, but of course her answer was yes.

"Let's say a couple dozen…" Her face told him that was _not_ an acceptable estimate. He was glad that he rounded down.

"Where did you even find the time or energy?" She asked, more self-conscious than she was judgemental. "Did you even appraise them all first."

"They had the right equipment. That was all the appraisal that I needed. I had this thing when I was younger… I wanted to have as many as I had years alive. I was like the chips - once you pop, the fun don't stop. Like, I didn't turn down any opportunities, unless it was… an outsider."

"An outsider. Like me?"

"I mean… There wasn't really any feasible way that I was ever gonna be in a position with anybody who wasn't white. The only guests we ever had were Stacie's friends. Neither of my parents had black friends. We tried not to have too many black neighbors, in particular after Sammy got sent away. Whenever they found out… They got really violent."

"Oh _they_ got violent? About finding out that their neighbors' house was a little Nazi factory?" Cheerio asked.

Stevie frowned, "I was just trying to explain myself."

"I know. Just the way that you said it - like they didn't have any cause to be leery, or even angry. Doesn't it make you mad when you feel like people you identify with have been done wrong?"  
"They all got locked up. It wasn't like they killed people and nobody did anything about it, which today there is another rising trend of. I've seen a lot of news coverage lately of the kind of future that we used to talk about, where the country again accepted our dominance and allowed us to do basically whatever we want. That didn't happen to Sam. That didn't happen to me."

"I mean, sort of. I see him nearly every time I log on. I haven't seen Matthew Rutherford, though. In fact, I have to search for him to find him. So… I mean… the explanation that you were raised a certain way and the claim that at least you were punished for your wrongdoings doesn't help me to feel better about you taking the tone that black people don't have the right to get upset when they see visible representation of the oppression that they have to live with everyday."

He scoffed and rolled his eyes. "How are you oppressed? Your _great-grandparents_ had money! You've got people in your life who have never once known of a struggle. Bargain bins, welfare, a hot-tempered parent, aggravated that he can barely feed his family and unconsciously takin' it out on you. Sammy and me at least had reasons to be angry and lash out and get caught up with the wrong people. You tried to kill yourself over a fuckin' injury that you HAD THE MONEY to take care of. I don't even remember the last time we had medical insurance, it was so long ago. You don't get to cry out oppression because you don't like stuff. It's only oppression if it negatively affects you." He rolled his eyes.

Cheerio bit her tongue, then took a deep breath, but she wasn't letting this go. "Okay. So, even though my family has always had money and been able to pay for a better way of life for their families, nobody ever did anything to us out of our control, or something that our money couldn't make up for, because it wasn't even taken into consideration in the first place? So, my family having to try to bargain their way out of being attacked, by paying off predators in surrounding areas, who wanted them to leave but settled for strong arming their hard earned funds from them to stay wasn't oppression, even though white neighbors didn't get the same taxing and the same extortion? Or, I suppose whenever my grandfather initially took his inheritance, which had to be hidden in the house, saved up and never spoken of because banks did not allow for my great grandparents to hold money there, and he couldn't get one white human to do any type of business with him, but the black patrons that he tried to serve at bargain prices were terrorized into leaving his establishment - that wasn't no oppression, either. I mean, he HAD money. He was able to pay the three times as much prices for the property that his white counterparts had and nobody was threatening their business. But, he had money, so that's pretty much what he deserved, I guess. Let me tell you something. This generation is far easier to live in than it was when my family BUILT their fortunes and yes, they have only grown and added on, through generations of hard work, struggle, fighting, outsmarting and yes, fucking oppression, you lil' bitch."

Stevie didn't know what to say or how the conversation went so far off the rails. She wasn't done.

"And another thing. I was one of THE BEST at what I did before my injury. I had people judge flawless executions of movements with prejudice that the white girls I went up against didn't always get. When I got on the mat, there were more people who wanted to try to put my uppity black ass in me meagher ass black place, by judging me more harshly, making me work harder for less credit, and begrudgingly awarding me, while being certain to diminish me elsewhere. With all my parents' money, I _COULDN'T_ afford a knee injury, because the industry had been rooting against me my whole life and even if I did heal, I would be forgotten about and even if I did return, they would always say that my points were out of pity! You might not get that, because you're part of a group that can murder and turn their life around. For me, an injury was the end of the fucking world."

"I'm sorry!" He said, seriously worried about how upset he had managed to make her on this topic. She was already gathering her things, though. "Cheerio."

"Don't worry about it. This isn't the first time some person told me that I have too much money to be able to accept my own humanity and its limitations."

"That's not what I meant."

"You've seen every member of your family at least once a month, sometimes, every week. I haven't seen my parents in TWO YEARS. But, I'm so privileged, right? With all my money - I have absolutely everything I need, right?" She was crying, now.

"I'm sorry," he said, again. There wasn't much else that he could think of to say and she wasn't giving him a chance, even if he could.

"You're common," she said. "There's nothing special about your opinion. You can be so deep about fictional characters in movies, but whenever it's time to offer up a little bit of understanding to real people right in front of you… You certainly remember your training." She shut her eyes. That was low. But, he stirred up something really painful in downplaying her injury, her attempt and the separation it caused between her and her parents, and she wasn't going to take back anything that she gave him as a reaction. She left the table, looking at him like he was trash, then rolling her eyes and walking out. She _knew_ that was going to bother him. She didn't care. He didn't get to just6 say things l8ike that to her!

Stevie got up, as well. There was no way that he was going to be able to work knowing that he had just caused whatever that was. They were doing so well until then! What the actual fuck had just happened? He went to return the computer cart back to the nurses station and Surette asked, "You're done with class for the day?"

Stevie reminded him, "That has nothing to do with your job."

"So, no?" Surette said. "You'll have to provide an excuse as to why you didn't complete the necessary work."

"I'm in a fucking mental institution and some days my mental health is fucked. Quote me." He rolled his eyes and went to go gather up his things.

As he left, he heard Nurse Bailey tell Surette, "You'd better leave that kid alone, Bobby." He went into his room, threw his things onto the floor, paced around, pulled his hair, held himself back from punching the wall multiple times and used all of his energy not to scream. A knock on his door distracted him and he jumped. It was Tesla. He stared at her, confused, then realized she was waiting for permission to come into his room. He waved her in and she came inside, and offered him a hug. He honestly didn't know what the hell this was, but he allowed it and she rubbed his back and patted him on it, She must have seen the fight and felt bad for him. But, why would se had come to him, instead of going to Cheerio? He let go of the hug and asked her. She gave him an "Okay" finger gesture. He didn't know what that meant. Maybe that was her checking to see if he was okay, before leaving? Maybe that was her saying Cheerio would be okay? He didn't know. She didn't speak to him. "I'm fine," he said. She began to gather up the things from his floor and he said, "Just leave it." But, she already had it, so she placed it down on his nightstand. "I'm fine. Leave, please." She gave him the gesture again, and left.

Chase had went to check on Cheerio. He and Tesla saw the whole thing. They didn't have any classes, so they were in the common room, just chilling when the argument broke out. They were close enough to hear most of it too. When Cheerio stormed out, Chase quickly said, "I'm going to check on her. Do you think that will be okay?" Tesla nodded and gave him the okay sign. But, then Stevie stormed out too, and she wasn't sure if HE'D be okay.

She didn't care for him. She knew that he was from stuff that she didn't respect She had begrudgingly agreed to let Bukowski use her to "get back" at the kid. Then, she immediately felt bad for it. He was young, impressionable and he was doubtful. She could tell he didn't want to be in the situation that Brett had put him in. She also knew that Chase hadn't wanted to be in the situation that Stevie had put him in. Maybe these were the worst case scenarios in this place… But, she rationalized that they were few and far between. At any rate, she went to check on Stevie. He might be able to leave soon, if he was really good and perhaps that would make Brett less crazy than he had been in the past few weeks…

So, whenever Stevie let her hug him, she silently tried to push any spare positive energy she had into him. He was messed up, but she didn't think that he was like the ginger triplets. Maybe, she was wrong, but at this moment, she didn't feel scared, and she left when he asked her to. Chase hadn't made it back to the common room, so she checked Cheerio's room. The two of them were sitting on the floor, and Cheerio was venting, in overdrive, red in the face crying, until she saw Tesla. She stopped and stared at her.

Chase said, "Hey, Allie-Ann." She signed something to him and completed it with the okay sign, before going back to the common room. Chase said, "She said that she went to check on Stevie. He said that he was fine, but she's not sure if he's actually okay."

Cheerio wiped her face, "I'm not going to him. He was wrong."

"I understand. I wish that I had that kind of strength," he said. "But, if you need me, I'm here, this time."

.

Stevie sat alone at dinner, until Cheerio joined him and his face brightened up, but he was too scared to say anything, in case she was about to confirm that she never wanted to speak to him ever again in her life. Instead, she simply began a regular ass conversation with, "I think that I've finally convinced them that a tray full of salad is actually a meal. Nobody is bothering me about confirming that I need some fill in the blanks of whatever other poison that they're serving." He was super relieved that she didn't seem to be mad. "Heard you hung out with Tesla today," she teased. He furrowed his eyebrows. "Sorry. Bad joke. I don't know why I said that. I guess I'm hoping that I didn't diss you so bad earlier that you're reevaluating what you think of me."

He cleared his throat. It was dry. "I am. I'm reevaluating, because I misjudged you. I never thought about any of the stuff that you said, because I didn't have to. Generations ago, Evanses had money too. It was tied up in oppressing other people." He wasn't going to go into the details of that, but she could figure it out. This boy _definitely_ came from slave owners. She wasn't confused about that shit. "I said stuff about your life that nobody should say to a friend, or even to another person. I.." He tugged at his hair, "Thought that I had finally done it. That I had finally did or said the thing that was gonna ruin us and make you hate me forever."

She gave him a small, soft, sympathetic smile and took his hand from his hair to hold it, "Cornflake, sometimes people get mad, and it doesn't mean that anything is ruined or that they hate you. It just means that we're human and have feelings. What don't you get about that?"

"I don't know. But people's feelings rarely matter to me, whether they're human or not - I could care less. Yours matter." She smiled a little bit brighter now, took his hand and kissed it.

After a moment, he asked, "When'dya get that new necklace?"

She excitedly touched it and said, "You like it?"

He shrugged, "It's nice, I guess. I don't necessarily _like_ it. Just happened to notice it, earlier" he reached out and held it towards him to see it better.

"I was really tripping, thinking that either my parents didn't care at all or somebody hated me enough to send me a prank card. I'd suspected Chase, because he apparently does lettering and has awesome and versatile penmanship, but then this baby was delivered priority."

"From your parents?" Stevie asked, daring to bring up her family again, but trying to keep his voice neutral.

"Even BETTER! From Radja, herself! It's pink and white diamonds and worth $16,000! Even to my parents, that's not just pocket change."

Stevie quickly let go of the necklace. "That's worth more than my damned life and you're just wearing on your neck in this place?"

"What else would I do with my Sweet 16 gift from my mother?" He shook his head. "Why do you look so uncomfortable all of a sudden?"

"Because, I just remembered how high above me you are. Your mom sent you an accessory the price of a vehicle and… That's extremely unsettling to me. I put my hands on it! What if I'd accidentally broken it?" His hands were trembling. "Your family can throw 16,000 at you on a gift. I don't know if my dad has ever seen that much money before."

Money was going to always be an uncomfortable subject between them. Especially after the fight earlier, but she chuckled, and said, "Your brother has. He's got deals coming out the wazoo."

"I'm not tryin' to fuck my brother," he said. She covered her mouth to giggle, with the hand that wasn't still holding his. "Stop it. What am I supposed to do? If I get lucky with you, are your folks gonna send a hitman after me?" Now, she cackled and held her stomach. "If you were my daughter and some dude like me came near you, he'd meet the barrel of a gun. I would never allow my daughter to date me, so if I had a daughter like you, I'd kill me for tryin' to taint her."

"This is so serious and unnecessary. My parents are obviously not moved by me. I hyped this gift up. It's either a guilt gift or a "I remember you" afterthought gift. Nothing to worry about. They don't even own a gun. We're a very anti gun family. You can chill."

"You're anti gun?" He turned his nose up.

She just smiled. "There's that stuck up hick I'm tryna give some booty to!" He was shocked by that declaration, but not as shaken up as moments before.

"When are you tryin' to do that?" he asked, strumming the back of her hand. She looked up and saw Surette coming back from making rounds, and when he put his device away (hence the spreadsheet), she grabbed her tray and got up from the table. Stevie threw everything still on his tray into his mouth and nearly choked. He couldn't go without meals like she could. He _could,_ but he hated it, so he never wasted food, as programmed behavior. He left shortly after she did.

Surette noticed and stepped forward, but Bukowski held him back, "You accounted for them. I'll make the rounds in 30 and if they're up to something, it'll be a sweeter catch."

Surette reminded him, "Or, they'll have been carrying on for 30 minutes and that can reflect negatively on us."

"They dropped the investigation. Take it easy, Bobby. You don't have to always be a hardass."


	16. I'm Not a Perfect Person

**Part Two: The Reason**

 **I'm Not a Perfect Person**

Stevie didn't have enough time to do many things with Cheerio after dinner. He didn't want to get halfway into the act and have to stop. He wasn't sure if he would be able to stop himself, if it came to that. So, they just made out and she pouted about not getting more. Unable to resist her little pouty lip and bratty moaning, Stevie slid his hand into her underwear and began to play with her. Cheerio latched on to him, pulling his hair and panting in his ear. Now, his moans were practically uncontrollable. "I want you inside of me," she whimpered into his mouth.

"Oh my God," he replied, shut his eyes, and started grinding against her. "I want that, too…" He kissed her on the neck, "But we can't, yet." She kicked her legs around, in both pleasure and a tantrum. He just laughed. "Soon, I promise." He kissed her neck again, and she just about fell to pieces. He liked that. He _knew_ that he could probably get a lot of reactions out of her, but seeing it in motion was still exhilarating. This was just the second time he was able to see her this way and she was more into it than she was before. "Hey," he whispered against her lips, "Do you like how you taste?"

"I don't know?" She laughed, looking curiously at him and breathing hard.

"You've never tested it?" He asked, still moving his fingers inside of her.

"I'm not sure why I would do that…" He removed his hand and she kicked her legs around even more bratty.

"Stop it," he said, almost like he was talking to a small child. She fumed, but listened and looked into his eyes, trapped there. He smiled and rubbed his nose against hers as he brought his lips up to her face, put his two fingers between them in a peace sign and told her, "Kiss me."

"Through your fingers? While they're all… covered in me?" She confirmed. He moved in for it and she reacted quickly, meeting his mouth at his fingers. They both kissed around his fingers, tasting her as they did, until he simply stuck his fingers into her mouth and watched her clean them before kissing her again.

His review was, "It's enough to make somebody crazy, ain't it?"

They didn't even close the door, so whenever rounds were made, they jumped apart and pretended to just be hanging out. "Well, it's almost lock down time, so…" Stevie got up off of the bed, walked by Bukowski, and left the room.

Cheerio casually said, "Sweet Dreams, Cornflake," as he walked out. He smirked to himself. Yeah, they would be. He was sure of that.

.

He was wrong. Stevie was deep into a wet dream, where he was deep inside of Cheerio, with her arms and legs wrapped around him. He could feel her, taste her, smell her. The dream was SO realistic… Therefore, it was realistic when the mood of the dream changed. She was covered in blood, and screaming and he was hitting her, repeatedly. He wouldn't stop. He couldn't. He jumped up awake and yelled. He was the one screaming now and he couldn't stop himself. The orderly Duncan came into the room and approached him, but he began swinging at him until Duncan rushed away for some distance from him.

Surette said, "He must be having night terrors. It's in his file, but I've never seen him actually have them before." He went in, kicked the bed several times and called out, "Evans! Wake up!" Stevie stopped screaming, but was breathing hard. He looked around the room. "You were having night terrors. You need sleep aid?" Surette asked.

Stevie put his hand over his chest and shook his head. "No, thank you." He laid back down, but he knew that he couldn't go back to sleep.

It reminded him of scenes from the desensitizing videos that he'd grown up watching. Proselytizing children into a belief system that other people were inferior demanded extreme dehumanization tactics. From about the time that he was 10, up through when he got here, he had seen hundreds of videos, some caught on camera, some purposefully made, of violence against non-whites. That scene was like something out of the 'degrading their women' catalog. He hadn't thought about any images like that in a long time, but now that it was back in his mind, he wasn't sure how he would be able to think about anything else!

.

Cheerio wore a short floral skirt and flopped down in front of Stevie at breakfast, "How'd you sleep?" she asked, with a bright smile that almost turned his day around, but of course flashes of violent images disturbed even that beautiful scenery and he shivered and shook his head.

"Awww. You didn't dream about me?" she asked and folded her arms.

"Yeah, but, it went really, really wrong."

She nodded her head and began to eat her hash browns, "You dreamed that you couldn't get it up."

He laughed and folded his hands over each other on the table. He couldn't stop them from shaking. "I wish it was that mild. It was much, much worst."

"You dreamed it fell off?" She asked with wide eyes. He laughed again, then immediately looked defeated. She stopped eating and reached out for his hand, "Hey. What happened? What was it?"

He pulled his hand away. He felt unworthy. He didn't want her touching him. Not with _this_ inside of him. "I'm not ready to discuss it." She frowned, but didn't push it. He could tell that it was going to continuously bother her, though.

.

"So… after the first rounds following class… Wanna visit my shower?" She asked, at the beginning of class.

"You know I do," he said, a little bit tense and kinda red, but also anxious and excited. He was stressed out about his nightmares, but still interested. Maybe he could pretend that it never happened, or focus on not thinking about it and forget it, again. Maybe he would snap and harm her, though. He frowned, then noticed that she was staring curiously at him. "Ummm… Will your knee be okay?" He asked. "I mean… you haven't been fucked since your injury, and I sometimes get excited and overzealous... Sorry. Know what? It don't matter yet. I haven't even gone down on you three times." Now, he was super red and put his face all the way into his book.

"I must admit, I love this flustered thing you've got going on when it comes to this booty! I feel good enough to go straight to the sex."

He accidentally knocked down his book, then went to grab it and lost his pen, then went to get it and accidentally made it roll further away. He sighed, said, "I'm gonna do it the right way. I'ma eat the caviar two more times and whenever I can.." He got up and grabbed the pen. _If I don't have an episode in the middle with blood drenched flashes in my mind..._

Cheerio broke into his worries, "Whoooa! Whoa! Caviar is… is…" she lowered her voice to a whisper, " _Coochie?_ Caviar _was_ coochie all along?"

He went back to sit down and looked at her to say, "Just yours."

"Caviar was specifically _MY_ coochie all along?" She asked, even more excited, getting loud again. Now, she had to grab her notepad. _This was breaking news._

"Dani started it." he tattled, scribbling on his notebook.

"I'm honored."

"I wish she was around for me to rub in her face that I'm getting it. And also to specify that it's more like caviar on cocaine."

"Awww."

"I ain't never tasted anything so good… and high class. It's like the kind you'd bottle up if it was possible to bottle it up…" She beamed and gathered her things. "Where are you going?"

"I'm trying to go wax! You're not getting a mouthful of carpet after that rave review!"

He shrugged, "I like your little hairs. I mean, I know I wouldn't be discouraged by 'em." _Just by my nightmares._

"See you later," she said, excited to go strip her hair away.

Stevie sighed, relieved that she was gone and he wasn't under her scrutiny and also that she hadn't brought the conversation back to his lack of sleep the previous night. He logged on to his social media and saw that he had gotten a friend request from Dani. He checked the profile and it was new, practically unused. He guessed she had Internet access and he accepted the request. Moments later, she sent a message:

Dani: _Hey! I can't believe this! How are you? Last time I saw you, you were strapped to a bed and chock full of meds!_

 _Stevie: I'm surviving. I heard that they let you out._

Dani: _I don't know what to do out here, to be honest. I'm at the public library, applying for jobs. I'm at a halfway house, wishing I was back in there, like a true crazy person. It was easier being confused when I had friends around me._

 _Stevie: We miss you._

 _Dani: How's my girl?_

 _Stevie: Mine? Good. Delicious._

Dani: … _Excuse?_

 _Stevie: It's like caviar on cocaine! I think I got high just smelling it._

 _Dani: Telling lies._

 _Stevie: We were JUST discussing making a munch appointment! It's odd that you messaged me. I had just mentioned you before she left to wax._

 _Dani: She's able to do it herself now? Awww! My girl is a big girl. I thought she was done after the piss incident._

 _Stevie: Piss... Incident?_

 _Dani: And how's your fam?_

 _Stevie: What piss incident?_

 _Dani: Your cute sister? She good?_

 _Stevie: I will push this unfriend button so damn hard!_

 _Dani: Bukowski went in there and I don't know what he did, but she was bothered enough that she pissed herself. She was trying to clean it out of her mattress when I stopped in to meet her for breakfast. Then, I went after him. That's what got me sent to juvie ward… trying to take off his ginger head._

 _Stevie: He… Did something to her? What did he do? Why didn't you tell me?_

 _Dani: I got sent away before you came to. But, I got some good hits on him for you. I'm not surprised she hasn't said anything about it._

 _Stevie: Protecting me, I'll bet._

 _Dani: That's true love._

But, Stevie didn't respond, because he was already heading to Cheerio's room.

.

She was in her bathroom in a bathrobe when he knocked on the wall to the opening and she jumped, startled. "Cornflake, it's too soon after waxing. It can cause vaginal issues and I have to take care of the caviar."

He stared at her for a moment. She was so cute, with her eyes twinkling and her smile beaming. He hated that he was probably going to take that away from her, but he had to know what Dani was talking about. "Come and talk to me."

"I'm waxing my legs, in the meantime. If girls in every dystopian movie and show can maintain hair removal, this place ain't stopping me." He laughed at her call back to this complaint, a subject that HE brought up and she defended, insisting that if the world ended SHE wouldn't "let herself go." _How would I get a group of men to guard and feed me, otherwise?_ It had prompted Stevie to write a short script in which a post-apocalyptic princess gives herself to a band of survivors in exchange for safety from the rest of the chaos. That story quickly became gangbang porn, though. And thinking about it brought him back to sexual violence and he winced.

She came into the room and he'd taken her covers off to examine her mattress. She froze and sighed, "What, did Bukowski have a video of _that_ on his phone, _too_?" She set her waxing supplies down and fussed with the sheets to get them from Stevie and back on to the bed. "This is none of your business!" She fussed. Honestly, she had the mattress replaced, because she hadn't been able to clean it up and even the faintest smell of urine in the room was triggering.

"What happened?"

"Nobody else fucked me, if that's what you're worried about!"

He was relieved she hadn't been violated that way, but _something_ happened and he wasn't at ease about that. "I'm worried about whether or not you're okay. What did he do to you to scare you so much?"

"Things were said and I got scared. And, he also showed me a video of you and his… Allie-Ann and tried to wound my self-esteem and security. Thanks for bringing this back up. Can you please leave, now?"

"I just wanted to let you know that I'm here for you." She scoffed.

"No, I'm here for _you_! I cheer _you_ up. I come to _your_ aid. I reach out to _your_ family and I get my life threatened. _You_ … safely carry out your sentence. And that's fine. You deserve a break. But you don't get the right to stir my shit up when we both know that your ultimate goal is to just let things happen!" He was taken aback. "And you wouldn't even trust me with your nightmare. Like, I would ever do anything but try to help you sort it out. Get out of my room, please?"

He quickly did so, but was a mixture of sad and angry. She shut the door on him and he just waited outside of it, sitting on the floor, until she came out, now dressed in a pair of short shorts and a tank top, with her hair up in a headband. She was surprised to see him there, but she just opened the door back. "You're still here."

"I was listening in, to make sure I hadn't made you do something stupid." He couldn't look at her. "I'm sorry that I made you go through everything alone, then I called off everybody who could help you. I just didn't want it to get worst for you. I'm _used_ to shit. My dad gave me a beating _every_ time I fucked up, and you know good and well that I fuck up, a lot.. My mom talked to us like we were complete shit, if there wasn't company around and talked down on us when there _was_ company around. Our neighbors and friends were the same way with their families. We thought abuse was just life. Fucked up stuff is my normal. But you… this place is probably the worst thing to happen to you. For some reference… it's the opposite for me. I've gotten more help here in the past year or whatever than all the years of church my mama dragged me to, than all the advice from the triplets or Hank, or Sam, or any of the people that have ever influenced me…" She sat down on the floor, next to him. "I didn't wanna stand up against the bad here, because I was scared that it'd just get worst for all of us. And worst for me was gonna be a hell of a lot better than worst for you. This is already your purgatory. I ain't want it to become your hell."

She took his hand. "Cornflake, I just said those things because I was embarrassed. It wasn't fair for me to put that on you. You did the smart thing."

"But not the right thing."

"Sometimes the smart thing has gotta be the right thing. I guess I'm just used to people being bad at their jobs _losing_ their job. I've seen Champ and Rhadja fire people at the drop of a hat. I've seen Rhadja convince someone to fire people who worked for them and not her! My thoughts were that if who you serve is not pleased, you don't deserve the job. This place is BEYOND that. If anybody messed up calling people off, it was me. Robinsons can move mountains and I told them not to do a thing. But hose orderlies could kill me. I can't die in this place. I would rather step foot outside and drop dead before being able to live again than to die in this place."

"You're not gonna die," Stevie said. "Those dudes ain't killers. I know killers. They're bullies. And maybe if pushed, they might could really hurt somebody, but they aren't the type to plan and execute anybody's death and if they did, they sure couldn't handle getting on with life. They're not smart enough for successful serial work and one of them talks way too much to ever keep it down, even if they got away with it."

"That's an interesting breakdown, but I'm not trying to die here. His threat was scary enough."

"He _threatened_ you?" Stevie was already red in the face.

She placed a hand on his shoulder and the other in his hands, "Now is not the time for this. We both decided to let that go and I want it behind us. We can't move forward and worry about that, and as long as we're not picking fights, they seem to be backing down, too."

They were silent for a while, then Stevie confessed, "I dreamed that I hurt you. I assaulted you. I was _killing_ you. There was blood everywhere. I wouldn't stop hitting you. You were, you were… screaming. I just, I kept on." He took a deep breath and shut his eyes tight. "I couldn't go back to sleep after that. I kept seeing it." He opened his eyes. "It's still happening, today. Right now."

She withdrew her hands and laughed uncomfortably. "Should I be worried about this?"

He shook his head, but then shrugged his shoulders. "I don't think so. I think it was just some residue… of, of my old life. Some things that I had seen and forgotten about. We… Whenever we had camp or retreats, we had to watch hours and hours of these violence videos that were specifically to mentally desensitize us to the pain of people considered to be inferior and to dehumanize them."

"Oh, God… Why?" She was horrified and he hated it.

He shakily answered, "So that when we were given assignments that required that we hurt someone, we would be able to do it without moral reservation. To harden us against y'all. If y'all were less than human, less than animals, less than objects brought here for our entertainment, there wouldn't be much blow back on an abduction, a rape, a beating, a murder assignment. We called it 'taking out the trash,' in public spaces… or 'disposing of waste.' We referred to _people_ … as waste." He covered his face with both of his hands and she snuggled in closely to hold him. "This is fucked up. This is really fucked up. How do I touch you with this shit in my mind? How can I even sit here beside you and you not just hate me?"

"Hey. Hey! You're here so that all the shit that's in your mind can be worked out in your favor. You're here because you need healing. The fact that you're bothered by it shows that you're better than this and you deserve to be free from it. It wasn't your fault. They made you this way and I see that you're trying not to be, so why would I hate you? You should talk to Dr. Pepper. If not her, contact Dr. Campion. If not him, contact your sister. But you need to speak to _somebody_ who could possibly help you. You can't hold it all in and _I_ don't know what to do with it!" She got up and reached for his hands to lead him to the nurses' station. "Sandy… how soon can Stevie see a doctor? He's not feeling okay."

Sandy looked at Stevie and came out of the office. She offered a hand to place on his back and guide him away. "You're in good hands, Cornflake," Cheerio said, smiling sadly.

He turned suddenly, gave her a big hug, then let Nurse Sandy lead him away.

Cheerio wrote in her notepad while Chase and Myron watched TV, on the couch with her.

 _I can't imagine a beating, especially not every time I messed up. Then again, I was always trying to be perfect for my parents. But, anyway, even still - Radja saw every slightest bit of imperfection. Beatings never would have stopped if they were the beating type. I didn't even get grounded! The worst punishments I got were the silent treatment and limited technology time! Beatings? Mr. Cornflake Sr. seemed so cordial and mild-mannered! Is every adult like this? A fake person to everybody, then a monster to the people that they should nurture? My heart hurts for him. Beatings, feeling unloved, being in Free Nazi's supernazi shadow, and people training him with molestation and traumatizing violence videos. Nobody's childhood and adolescence should look like that. No wonder he doesn't trust people or get close to anybody. And no wonder he'll never be able to understand how I feel about him, or be able to feel the same way about me. I don't blame him, but it fucking sucks._

.

Cheerio swung by Stevie's room before group and knocked on the wall next to the open door. He was seated on the bed, staring out at nothing, but looked at her and forced a smile when he saw her. "Did things go okay?" She wondered.

He sighed, "Well, I'm apparently forced to face my belief system and challenge it to figure out what is more important to me - a connection to someone that I seem to care about, or a dedication to a cause that I gave my life to? Supposedly, if I can figure _that_ out and make a determination, I should be able to separate the troubling images from the desires. Also, I've got a new cocktail. I was just getting used to the drugs that make me feel sleepy, but now, I have ones that make me feel numb. So, that's cool, I guess. Can't flip out if you feel nothing."

"Wanna walk me to group?" she asked.

"I have to go there, too. For at least another month or so," he said, getting up.

"What? What happens in a month?" she wondered.

"I turn 18. I move to the other wing. I go see Dr. McIntosh. My group changes." He bumped into her and nearly tripped over her. "For some reason, I expected you to move…"

She was frozen, though. "You're gonna be 18 soon? When? What day?"

"Oh, you get my birthday, but I don't get yours?" She grabbed his arm and turned him to look at her. "St. Patrick's Day. Me and Stacie were actually born after my mama's water broke at a party, and she had to drive herself to the hospital, because daddy was drunk as fuck on green beers. He slept through it. He was in the room, but out cold. She told us that, I don't know how many times over the course of our lives. She was so angry about it that we weren't allowed to celebrate St. Patrick's Day at all, in our house for like 13 years. If friends gave us something related to the holiday, she trashed it and told us to warn them next time that shit wasn't welcome in her home." Cheerio reflexively rubbed his back and held back on saying something nasty about his mother. "You're beautiful, you know that?" he said. "Even before I liked you. Even when I was calling you bad names. You were always so pretty. Just a goddamned vision…" She smiled brightly.

"I relate to that," she said.

He smiled, "Because you wanted to lick the sweat off of me?"

"Obviously." He smirked, but he didn't blush. It was the medication. It had helped him to be much calmer than he had been earlier. He needed it after that extended talk with Dr. Campion.

Dr. Pepper was setting the room up when they arrived and she smiled, "Hey, Cheerio, Cornflake." Stevie frowned. She sounded like somebody's goofy dad.

"Stop it," Stevie said, monotone.

Dr. Pepper said, "Well, we were able to get something in here for you, but the catch is that you'll only be able to use it in here or in the common room…" She walked over to the table and grabbed a guitar case. Stevie looked perplexed.

"You play guitar?" Cheerio asked, excited.

Stevie shook his head, "No. I mean, I have. I used to."

Dr. Pepper reminded him, "You said that whenever you were having bouts with night terrors, you would play your dad's guitar and drown out the images with music. We want you to be able to do that here. But, it has guitar strings and they can be hazardous, so you'll have to be supervised."

"Where did it come from?" he wondered.  
"Your father brought it to us," Dr. Pepper said. "Wasn't that nice of him? And not even on a visiting day!"

She handed the case to Stevie and he opened it and pulled the guitar out. "Cyril," he said, and picked it up. "He bought her and a twin, Sybil, when me and Stacie were born. Stacie tried to learn to play, but it wasn't her thing. She can do a few chords. I tried a little bit harder, since I had more to prove."

"Why'd you have more to prove?" Cheerio asked.

"Because Daddy liked me less," he said, as simply as he would state a fact - _the sky is blue, today is Tuesday, Daddy liked me less._ He sat down in a chair and began to tune it, using the pick that had been in the case. Cheerio sat next to him and he started absentmindedly playing something.

He couldn't remember many songs. He had given up on guitar by the time he got into high school, thinking that perhaps baseball might be his ticket to appreciation. After 9th grade, he only played to relax after the nightmares or night terrors.

The other teenagers began coming in and Dr. Pepper explained to them what this was. Other youths asked Stevie if he could play certain songs, but he quickly let them know, "I only know country and rock… and some alternative stuff."

"He has a really great singing voice, too,"Cheerio told the room. He shook his head and tried to simply play something from memory. He had a lot of Pearl Jam in his catalog, from whenever he was little and Sam was heavy into grunge. "Sing the Slipknot song!" She cheered. He frowned. That was a sensitive song for him. That was _her_ song and he wasn't sure if he could play _her_ song, especially with what he was going through today.

"Why do you think that I know how to play that?" He asked. She was glad he hadn't tried the " _What Slipknot song?"_ Route, because she didn't remember the name of it. But, she still rolled her eyes and started singing it, from the beginning. His playing fell in line with her and they sung it together, a few lines; then she let him sing it _to_ her.

Afterwards, Dr. Pepper wondered, "Stevie, was there any particular reason that you chose that specific song?"

Another kid blurted out, "Because his Bust It Baby told him to!"

"Boy, shut up!" Cheerio said, blushing.

Stevie looked confused. "My what?"

Cheerio just shook her head, "Don't nobody pay attention to that boy. Always saying something silly." She scoffed and said under her breath, "Bust It Baby," and shook her head. Stevie guessed he would have to look it up later, as Cheerio answered for him, "He played it because a friend who knew that he knew the song requested it."

"A "friend," the same boy said.

"Oh my God, Derek, SHUT UP!" Cheerio fussed, laughing.

Stevie stared at him for a moment… Had he been here for a while? Stevie didn't recognize him. Maybe he hadn't been very vocal?... He was leaned over towards Cheerio, saying something and she was laughing brilliantly - like _legit_ laughter. Stevie forced a smile and began to play another song while Cheerio, Myron, and _Derek_ talked over the group.

Whenever everyone was getting ready to leave, Dr. Pepper called, "Stevie, if you could hang back for a moment?" Stevie was putting the guitar back into the case and watching Cheerio and Myron leaving with Derek and laughing… _Were they even going to glance back and see whether or not he was with them? Was she now avoiding him?_ He couldn't breathe, suddenly. "I was wondering how you felt about having the guitar as a supplement for your therapy?"

"It was nice. Everything came back to me. It gave me something to focus on, when I needed to focus and it was background when I didn't need to be as focused on it."

"Well then, Dr. Campion and I will bring it along to sessions, to see if it helps you to open up about your most recent breakthrough."

"Breakthrough? You and Dr. Campion think that me being haunted at night is a breakthrough. And what do you mean you'll bring it along to sessions? Am I gonna be coming to you again?"  
"As it now stands, with the recent breakthrough - and yes, we consider it a breakthrough, Dr. Campion believes that I could help him with getting you to come out on the other side of this, the right way."

"How is it a breakthrough, to have to imagine literally the only friend that I have right now dying miserably, at my hands?"

"Steven… The actual act happening in the dream is not something that we believe you are fantasizing about. You're not a psychopath and you don't have a bloodlust. So, this is what I believe: You witnessed some traumatic things when you were young. Some of them were in the videos you've spoken of, but some of them may have been in real life. Up until now, you've been extremely closed off to most people. Recently, you've claimed a friend. I don't think that it's a coincidence that your mind is now trying to process some of your previous trauma."

"Because I made the mistake of opening myself up."

"Because you made the brave decision to open up and now, you're able to finally access parts of your mind that had been previously closed in your defense mechanism."

"Dr. Campion said that I could be subconsciously afraid to lose my friend and that confirmation of her sticking around might make the nightmares cease."

"I think that's a portion of it, yes. It's obvious that you fear losing Cheri, from the jealous way that you respond to others when you feel like they've invaded your territory. I don't think that would make you begin to have thoughts about violence in your history because of that _alone._ So, we'll do whatever we can, to try to help you unpack this." She took the guitar case in her hand and nodded, "Have a good night. Hopefully, you'll sleep better."

He headed for his bedroom and ran into Cheerio, waiting outside for him, alone. "What happened to your friends?" He asked.

"They knew that I had other priorities and went on without me," she told him and reached for his hand. He took it and let her snuggle up on his arm as they walked towards her room and she gave him a kiss on the cheek when they arrived. "Sweet dreams," she said and knocked on wood. He pulled her into a hug and squeezed her tightly, afraid of what would meet him when he closed his eyes. She leaned back and cupped his face, making him look at her for a while.

"What are you doing?" He wondered, laughing a little.

"Trying to push this image into your mind… The way that I look at you, like you're just… the world." She tiptoed to kiss him on the lips, then let him go.


	17. There's Many Things I Wish I Didn't Do

**There's Many Things I Wish I Didn't Do**

He was too afraid to try to go to sleep, so Stevie wrote in his journal. He wrote a few poems, a story or two, and one journal entry that he fell asleep before completing.

 _Cheerio had on a skin tone bodysuit, with glitter and flowers on it. She was in the woods, dancing around like a nymph, and hidden in the trees were broken men who had sought out the powers of her healing. Chase was there. Brodie… And Derek. Stevie was there, as well, but simply watching the others get too close… A blinding white light later and she was covered in blood and remains of all of them and he was hovering above her. "What did you do?" She asked._

 _He just bowed in front of her, begging for her healing. She shook her head, "No one could heal something like you. You just destroy everything before there is a chance to..."_

Stevie woke up and read the last line of his journal entry, before he'd gone to sleep. It was almost verbatim, his own thoughts that she had spoken to him in his dream. She wouldn't say something like that, even if she believed it. He shut the book and put it away, then grabbed her headband and put it on. He couldn't let him go back to sleep, so he started to exercise. He was still doing so whenever he heard his door unlock in the morning. He went to take a shower, and hesitantly headed for breakfast, unsure of how he would feel when he had to face her again.

Fortunately, she was dressed down, today. She had a frizzy ponytail, work out clothes and no makeup, but lip gloss. Myron and Derek looked prepared to work out, too. Had they made plans without him?

Stevie sat down, gave her an exaggeratedly possessive kiss in front of everybody, then nudged his head at her clothes, "You organize some kinda workout day theme, or something?"

She booped him on the nose and told him, "I finished with all of my course material, except for my finals. So, I'm gonna go overtime into my physical training, since I'm hoping to be back into school by the beginning of the school year in the fall and I gotta perfect my cheer tryouts routine." He turned a little bit red.

 _She wasn't going to be in class with him anymore, but more importantly, she was trying to get ready to for sure leave him in this place…_ She frowned when she noticed his silent reaction to her good news and tried to cheer him up, "But, you've only got a few weeks until your graduation, and remember Nurse Bailey said that she'd let me and Myron throw you a graduation party when you passed all of your classes and taken all your finals!"

Myron said softly to Derek, "I was volunteered for it. That's how being friends with this girl works. You get roped into things that involve him whether you like it or him, or not." Cheerio threw him a look and he quickly zipped up.

Stevie shrugged his shoulders, "Y'all ain't gotta do shit." He gave her a smile and leaned forward, "Good luck on your training. Your routine is perfect, but practice can't hurt it."

"You've never seen the cheerios perform, though!" She said, self consciously. They were the best of the best - a relentless cheer powerhouse that made competition weep.

"I've seen _you_ perform," Stevie reminded her. "You're gonna blow them away, Babe. They'll make you the captain. Write it in your pad, that I called it."

"You got your Booster Club headband on and everything! I see you, supportive boyfriend!" Derek cheered.

Stevie turned and looked at him face to face for the first time since noticing that he was even alive. It was a pretty ominous expression and silenced the entire table. "Do I _know_ you?" Stevie asked, softly, but… His tone was extremely menacing. Cheerio and Myron both knew what that meant.

Myron collected his tray and made himself scarce, not about to witness or participate in this. He hoped that Derek would simply walk away and follow him from whatever fight Stevie seemed ready to pick today.

Cheerio injected, "This my homeboy, Derek!" She laughed and shook her head, rubbing Stevie's shoulder. "You probably didn't get a chance to really chill with him, but he cool. I promise."

Stevie simply stared him down, until he got up and left, saying, "Better catch up with Musky Man and warm up. See you in the gym, Girlfriend! Good to finally get to meet you, Cornflake..."

"Don't call me that. You and me aren't friends."

"Cornflake..." Cheerio started, but Derek was a good sport.

"You right. Gotta earn the milestones. It's good. See you around, Mr. Evams."

"EvaNs," Cheerio corrected, rubbing Stevie's arm. Whenever Derek vanished, she blew out some air and asked, "What the fuck, Cornflake?"

"I don't _know_ him," Stevie said, casually. "And I don't _trust_ him."

"Okay, that's normal, but..." She thought about it for a while. "Can you chill out, though?"

This wasn't specific to Derek. Stevie _usually_ was very brash and coarse with new people, so she had to try to remind herself that he was an equal opportunity asshole with strangers, even if he might be motivated, in this case, and some others, by some misplaced jealousy. She finished up her food, gave him a kiss on the cheek, made plans to sneak off with him later, and rushed to what he called _her parents' gym._

Stevie got rid of his tray, found Tesla and Chase and sat with them for a minute. They had the CD player on the table and Tesla must have picked the music because it sounded like some black lady singing. She smiled briefly at him. Chase ignored him in favor of pretending to be very involved with his script art.

"Y'all know that dude Derek?" Stevie asked.

Tesla rolled her eyes and began to signal something.

Chase chuckled, "Hey! Not all of us!" he said in response to whatever commentary she had just given (probably on men and their worries/insecurities).

Stevie held out his hands, "Don't kick me while I'm down. Help me know what I'm up against with him."

Tesla sighed and started signaling again, as Chase translated, ' _You're not up against anything. You're seeing problems where there are none. If all of you just focused on your own healing, you could be content, by now.'_

Stevie furrowed his eyebrows, "That's not even sign language," he noted. "I know a little bit of sign language. That was nothing."

Chase defended, "Allie-Ann can communicate however she wishes. If somebody understands, that means the language is working, and _I_ understand her."

Stevie suspiciously looked at her and asked, "So all that flappin' around you were doin' was what Chase said it to be?" She wiggled her hand out _So-so._

Chase translated it as _Close enough._

"Does that dude want Cheerio, though?" Stevie asked.

Chase fussed, "You think EVERYBODY wants her, and I hate to tell you, but even though she's really pretty and a good friend, that doesn't mean that everybody wants her. Allie-Ann is really pretty and a good friend, too. That doesn't mean that everybody wants her, either. People should be able to just be Cheerio's friends without having to worry about you spying and sabotaging them." Tesla's eyes were wide, and she was concerned, wondering if that was actually directed at Stevie, or if he was subcommenting about Brett… because he wasn't hugely fond of her relationship with Brett, though he was supportive to her. But, Stevie's response broke into her thoughts.

Stevie nodded his head, "Sorry, Chase. I was so mean to you. You didn't deserve it." She placed a hand over her heart and made an _Awwww_ face.

Chase said, "That kid doesn't, either. Please, whatever it is that you're doing or thinking about doing don't do it!" Tesla made some more signals and Chase added, ' _Just let the kids have fun. They all come here intending to be out soon. Whether or not that happens… Let them enjoy their…'_ She reached for her sketch pad and drew a cluster of smiley faces:

"Joy!" Chase completed.

Stevie forced a smile and Chase shook his head, "Please, don't do the opposite."

"I came over to assess the dude. I didn't ask for advice, from either of you." Stevie told them. "Thanks for nothing."

"He's a good kid!" Chase said and groaned. Tesla patted Chase on the hand and he gave her a hug, as Stevie left the table. "He's gonna hurt him. He's gonna hurt that sweet boy."

She scribbled something down, ' _Give him a chance. He might do better.'_ Chase doubted that.

.

Cheerio's routine was perfect, so she felt like she had to make it bigger & better, and strive for _that._ Whenever she and Stevie stole away to have some private time, he would have to get her turned on to get her to stop talking about her next routine plans. Because, once he got her turned on, she was all his for 15 to 20 minutes, 25 if they were already in one of their rooms, a little longer if they had turned on the shower. They quickly found that getting out of the shower was a little harder to do whenever somebody was there to see to it that you made a verbal confirmation that you were in there, so they began to simply run the shower and mess around in the bathroom without getting into it.

Stevie could hardly wait until he was finally inside of her. It had taken such a long time, that he could hardly contain himself and lost control sooner than he hoped. He felt bad about it, apologized profusely and promised to do better next time. She wasn't bothered by it and kinda liked that after his "maybe couple dozen" vaginas that she somehow triggered premature ejaculation. It gave him a little bit of performance anxiety, but the next round, she was in _big_ trouble. He gave her his best until she couldn't feel her toes. She had never known anything like it, but she needed it every chance that she got.

Her personal trainer came to the home and worked with her on her endurance and the sustainability of her knee. Myron and Derek gave her someone to work with. Stevie watched them, whenever he had to do PE, which was just him exercising and trying to blow off steam, by himself. It was so weird to not have Dani here, despite how long it had taken him to warm up to her. There wasn't anybody to talk to about his problems and triumphs with Cheerio! Myron wasn't his friend. Chase had enough of him, now that he had himself a new little friend. Tesla did fake ass sign language that apparently only Chase's ass understood. There wasn't anybody here that he liked enough to see past their quirks and make them his new friend, so he needed to get as much of Dani as he could, right now.

 _Stevie: There's a black guy here, and he's always around Cheerio. She laughs when it's not funny… Or maybe I just don't get the jokes, "because I'm white."_

Dani: _There ARE some things that they automatically get the reference of that we might not, without an explanation. But, I mean… Cheerio is like… Diet Black. She's rich and mixed. Did she even see other black people growing up in the pageant circuit and in upper-class Ohio?_

 _Stevie: Never EVER suggest to her that she's not just as oppressed as the rest. I swear, she'll bring up all kinds of stuff to try to justify how she has an inheritance in the black struggle. Lol._

Dani: _You think that she_ doesn't, _though?_

 _Stevie: Like everybody, she's gone through some stuff, but I knew black people who were in the same economic situation as my family… and no matter what kind of life she thinks she's had, it certainly wasn't like theirs. But, don't tell her I said that. I tend to just agree with her so that she won't have a fit, so I told her I understood when she mostly complained about stuff that happened to her ancestors._

 _Also don't call her mixed. She does have some white on both sides, but apparently her white family members all sucked, so she only claims the grandmother, because she kinda has to._

Dani: _Yeah, well… I'd claim the airlines tycoon heiress parading as an interior decorator, too._

Stevie: _HOW did you get her to tell you that? She is usually so closed lip about her white grandmother in particular. I don't know what any body does except for her mom!_

 _Dani: I grew up in this place. Most people know what the rich families do. Every time one of them sneezes, it turns up on the news. Why do you think that they left her there and won't be associated with the place?_

Stevie: _I'm wilting without you here, especially because they can't seem to get my cocktail right. How did you get to be so perfectly medicated?_

 _Dani: Oh, I only needed one pill, unless I had a blowup. I wasn't as codependent on the poison as you._

Stevie: _You mean dependent. Codependent would suggest that me and the drugs need each other. This stuff gets pushed all over the country, whether it's needed or not. It'd depend just fine without me. I think I need to figure out my own dosages._

Dani: _They're already paying somebody to do that._

 _Stevie: It don't feel right. I haven't felt like myself in months._

Dani: _To be fair, "yourself" is a crazy person. Don't seek him out. Be drugs you. He's the guy that they'll let back on the streets in a little bit, when you turn 18._

 _Stevie: I don't remember telling you when I turn 18. I just told Cheerio, not too long ago._

Dani: _I must have found out from being nosy or overheard or something. I don't know when, but I remember hearing that you weren't far after me. Maybe it was glazed over in group? I don't know._

 _Stevie: It's heavily talked about right now, but I don't know, either. As cloudy as these meds have me, I could have told everyone and just can't recall. Lol._

 _Stevie: Do you remember a dude named Derek?_

Dani: _Derek… Is THAT the black guy you were whining about earlier? He came in around the time that they sent me over to Tanaka. Chocolate Drop. Yeah. He was cute. He danced teally good too. I'd definitely keep an eye on him._

 _Stevie: You would? You think he'll try to get her?_

Dani: _I don't know. I'm not sure what you want me to say…_

 _Stevie: Be my Dani and the voice of reason._

Dani: _If I gotta be your voice of reason, your life is gonna stay crazy._

Dani: _Cheerio is into you. Even if they love the same stuff, have inside jokes that you don't get, and can both relate to black experiences, whether or not you think that they both have them - Cheerio wants her Cornflake. I don't think Cocoa Pebbles is a threat._

 _Stevie: So, I shouldn't have a man to man talk with him in which I tell him to stay away from her?_

Dani: _Will you be able to do that without it turning into a battle of fists?_

 _Stevie: That would depend on him._

Dani: _I meant between you and my girl…_

 _._

Stevie adjusted his meds, a pinch. He didn't stop taking any, but he placed the dosages at more appropriate times of day, for himself and just didn't tell anybody, just in case they made a big deal out of something that he knew would be better for him, in the long run.

It made it easier for him to get sleep, and sneak off with Cheerio, to fool around, leading up to him trying to figure out when their first time would be.

He was regularly chatting with Dani online, but about to be done with classes, therefore, about to _lose_ access to the computer each morning. In addition to about to lose Cheerio to the outside world… And possibly to dude who was able to lift her up in the air, throw her and catch her. Her physical trainer did that too… But that was his job. Derek was just a dude who could dance and obviously had amazing upper body strength and technique associated with dance and/or gymnastics. Stevie tried to mind his business about it. Dani was right - Cheerio wouldn't let him interfere without a showdown. But, then again… he and Cheerio didn't have a special handshake, but somehow in a few short weeks, her and Derek _did._ That just was the last straw.

He'd tried to look up "Bus a Baby," "Bussy Baby," "Busty Baby," and was redirected to "Bust It Baby," a rap song, by someone named Plies, featuring pop r&b artist Ne-Yo (he hated most rap. He _loathed_ this.) He listened to the words - highly sexualized. Even if Derek was referring to Cheerio as _Stevie's_ , and even if the lyrics were super accurate, Stevie definitely didn't like the thought of her imagined in someone else's mind so graphically.

Myron had the song stuck in his head for weeks, and kept singing it (Ne-Yo's portion). Derek would beat on the table, like he was playing drums, It was super annoying. He tried to do it when Stevie was playing guitar, also. Stevie would simply stop and stare at him until he quit. Then, he would go elsewhere and take most of the people with him, because they all just LOVED Derek so much. But, fine. Stevie hated when people crowded him while he was simply trying to play music, anyway.

But, Cheerio did this thing whenever she was around Derek… She talked "more black" than she usually did. It came out of her as naturally as any other aspect of her _real_ personality! And now… They had a handshake, with snapping fingers, doing a little dance, and dusting off their shoulders. He couldn't take the shit, anymore. He felt like he had done very well about being a big boy about this, but that was too much for him.

"Homeboy!" He called out to Derek, before Cheerio got there for the morning workout.

Derek looked confused and bemused, but smiled anyway and held a hand out to Stevie, reminding him, "It's Derek."

Stevie didn't even glance at his hand. He simply kept eye contact with the taller guy and said, "That's irrelevant to me. What's more important is - do you know who _I_ am?"

"Cheerio's Boo!" Derek said, excitedly, avoiding Stevie's weirdly assertive stare.

"But more importantly, do you know what I am capable of?"

Derek now, for the first time seemed truly uncomfortable, in this place. He furrowed his eyebrows, and his smile faded ever so slightly, but Stevie kept going. "I'm a killer. That's how I got here."

"Oh, word? I thought they put the criminals in the other section," Derek said, trying to be cooler than he felt right now, because seriously - what the hell was wrong with this guy? "Well, if they thought you deserved the chance to be around regular people, then I trust them and I'm not afraid. Thanks for letting me know, but it's no big deal."

"It should be. I killed somebody that I gave a fuck about over somebody that I love. Now, I'm in a place where I've gotten into fights over a girl that I barely even liked, (They compared me to an enraged, wild animal at those times), and here we are, a _Boo_ and a _Bust It Baby_ later… and for whatever reason, you're here, in my space - with your handshakes and practices and little _black_ jokes. I don't care for how close you keep getting to her, and I'm trying to be okay with that, but I'm not. I don't at all like how cozy you are with her. You can understand that, right?"

Derek felt like he had his wind knocked out of him. This dangerous kid was actually threatening him, over someone that he honestly barely knew and probably wouldn't ever see again after he left. "Stevie, if I can call you that - I'm not interested in Cheerio, or any other girl in this place. I just want to keep a positive outlook, spread joy around me and leave with a good record and clean bill of health, so that it won't dampen my transcript too much when I try to get into Juilliard. If me being friendly with Cheerio offends you, I promise to keep my distance. The last thing that I'm trying to do in this almost completed 28 days journey is aggravate someone who brags about being a killer. No offense, her friendship doesn't really even matter to me; but I don't think it's fair to her for someone else to determine her friendships for her."

Stevie raised his eyebrows, "I don't want to try to tell her what to do, but thought I'd let you know that I'd appreciate it very much if you just stayed the fuck away from her - whenever you can help it. You just… Bring her value down."

Cheerio came up just as he was finishing this declaration and tried to greet Derek with their hand thing, but he simply said, "No, thank you. See you two around," grabbed his bag and left.

Cheerio frowned at Stevie, "What did you do?" she asked.

"What makes you think that I did something?"

"The fact that Derek just straight up curved me," she said.

"Ugh. Stop talking like that. You sound uneducated and tacky," Stevie commented.

Cheerio took a deep breath. "Okay. Let's start over. Cornflake, did you say or do something to bother, anger, or frighten Derek?"

"I don't know any Derek. Have you introduced him to me, or is he one of your little friends that you keep tucked away from me?"

She clenched her fists and teeth, smiled and said, "You may know him as literally the only black guy in our wing."

"Naw. I don't know him. Is he one of those savages that attacked you that time?" Stevie felt this convo slipping out of his control, but he also felt like _his_ girl was taking this stranger's side and controlling himself was becoming less accessible to his ego.

"I know that you know that all three of the boys that we got into a fight with are gone, now, The last one left months ago and Derek is the first black kid here since then. I know that you know who I'm talking about, since you were right here, right in his black ass face when I walked up, to the spot where ME and HIM usually workout together and he helps me improve my jumps. I don't know if you're doing this to piss me off on purpose or if you think that you're funny, while you mask your jealousy, but I object to both."

"He just must not have made an impression. Forget about him." He collected her and shrugged his shoulders, "I can work out with you."

"Yeah, but you don't know how to lift, or toss, or catch a human! It would be dangerous to _both_ of us and I'm not a teacher, that I could just show you how! Why is it always so important to you to run off my friends?"

"Friends? You barely even know that nigger!" Stevie blurted and immediately regretted it, but didn't have the time to try to retract it before Cheerio began slapping him in the face and upside the back when he turned from her assault.

"That nigger? That nigger, you said! So, what - he _is,_ but _I'm_ not? Right! Because, you found some kind of value in me, like some kind of object, so I get a light pass, but never forget to make it known to everybody that you own me and I don't get a say in what is done in my own life!"

"I'm sorry I said that, but you barely know him and you're a completely different person around him, for what? Because, you just need to connect with a black person so badly that you throw on a black face for the first one that you see, regardless of how trivial he is?" He turned around again and caught her wrists, to restrain her from hitting him.

When she caught herself, he still didn't let her go - just in case. She told him that she didn't "put on a black face" for Derek, that she "put on a less black face" for " _you all."_ Stevie was livid and tightened his grip on her wrists, raising his voice.

"Soooo… Derek gets natural you, but ME, the person who spreads your legs every chance we get, gets a fake face, like everybody else? _You all?_ Who the fuck is 'you all' and why am I with them?"

She struggled, trying to free herself from him as she fussed back, "That's not how I meant it. I just meant… Everybody is far more comfortable when I present myself a certain way. So, I've programmed myself to act a certain way in public, and in crowds, and whenever I'm one on one, I generally don't feel like I have to. You know that I sound "blacker" when we're in private. It's not like I meant I never am myself around you. You just generally see me around people."

"I see you and Derek around people, and you seem like a totally different person with him."

"It's easier to not assimilate when you have somebody else like you in the midst of the group. Especially, if they're as real as Derek. He doesn't put on another face for anybody. That's refreshing to me and it _does_ help me to relax! Meanwhile, you seem determined to stress me out every time things are going easy for me!" He let go of her wrists with a shove and she checked them. She would have swung on him again, they were bruised and sore.

"He put on another face when he said you weren't worth a fight, then he walked away from you like you didn't matter at all. You're fighting me over somebody that literally told me that you aren't worth that kind of drama. But, as long as you feel relaxed about him, I guess."

She poked him in his chest accentuating her anger with each word, "I'm fighting you, because you're trying to control me when I thought I made it clear to you, I'm _not_ your pet nigger!" She stormed off, slapped down stuff as she did and basically rampaged away.

Bukowski covered his mouth, like he was trying not to laugh at the exchange that he had witnessed most of.

Stevie marched over to him and grabbed him by the collar, ready to punch him in the face. "WHOA! Evans!" Bukowski said, "You go to the criminal ward now, and you'll get there right in time enough for your adulthood, hence a longer sentence. They will likely give you _at least_ 7 more years here, Evans. You _know,_ even with _that_ eruption, she's not going to be here a day past her 18th. I know that you're worried about losing her. Maybe, do something to win her back. I can help you. But, you take that swing and it's out of my hands. You aren't Dani. You're a killer. They won't release you at 18 with your _current_ record, but add on attacking staff? Come on, Evans. You know I tell you no lies." Stevie let go of him and Bukowski patted his shoulder. "Good man. Me and you are gonna be here together for a while. You might as well forgive and forget and let me be your friend, again." Stevie folded his arms. "At least let me help you round up your pet."

"She ain't…"

"Whatever she is to you. I'll make you a deal. I'll give you overnight access to her, on nights when I work overnight - not every single one, as that could get tricky to hide, but I'll give you a freebie as your birthday gift."

Stevie's eyes widened. Bukowski overlooking 30 minute fondles and conveniently pretending not to know what was happening in the former "blind spot" whenever he was with Pendleton was a hell of a lot less than overnight access. "What would I have to give you for that?"

"Same thing that I wanted before… access."

"To Max," Stevie said. He dropped his arms. "I wouldn't even know if he would use the same old spaces that they used to, or if they had more hiding places than I knew of."

"I just want a chance to possibly find him. Our deal is not dependent upon whether or not I do that."

Stevie sighed and entertained this idea for a little bit longer before giving himself some room to think about it.

.

Cheerio was by herself in the common room, because Surette was on shift and she didn't want to have to be forced to go in there anyway, if she tried to hang out in her room. Stevie came into the room, looked at her, while she purposefully ignored him, knowing that he saw her notice him enter, and he went over to where they kept the guitar case. Whenever he had it out, he began to play an acoustic, mellow cover of "Cold" by Crossfade and to move in her direction, so that she couldn't ignore him, or the lyrics. When he reached the lyrics:

"I never really wanted you to see

The screwed-up side of me

That I keep locked inside of me so deep,

It always seems to get to me

I never really wanted you to go

So many things you should have known

I guess for me there's just no hope;

I never meant to be so cold…"

She was done for. She was in tears. People were staring. Myron looked agitated. Cheerio stood up, set her things down, and gave Stevie a hug that almost made him drop the guitar. He set it down and held her close, grateful that she was willing to at least do this, if not forgive him. "Will you spend the night with me? The night before my birthday?" He whispered, wondering if she was going to question him about how he could possibly manage that or fuss at him for thinking about making more deals with Bukowski, after everything that had happened, or flat out tell him "No," just because he didn't deserve her. But, she didn't even think about it. She immediately replied.

"I'd do anything with you."

.

Bukowski got off of work, went home to get cleaned up, changed and tinker around on his computer for a while. He generally had several tabs open on the thing, and wanted to see if he could find any of the places on the list that Stevie gave him, to see how much information was available on them. It was a pretty long list, some of them simply a location and description, no addresses for most. It took him a couple of weeks to research and visit them all. The one that he thought was occupied was secluded and had a gate.

He made sure that his grandmother was okay to be put to bed and headed out for a drive a couple of hours away. Whenever he reached the house, a blond woman, Kendra Giardi opened the door with a gun to his face, "I don't know you, have never met or saw you, and you aren't even carrying anything or wearing a uniform. So, if somebody told you to come here and try to fuck with my family, they were tryin' to get you killed," she said.

"No, nothing like that. I was actually seeking out Max Giardi, brother of Kyle Giardi… I just have some business that I wanna discuss with him and I went through great lengths to try to find him."

"And how _did_ you find my son? He's meticulous. He's the brains of the family. Hed never let some little obviously worthless piece of shit like you sniff him out. So, tell me who snitched, or I'm gonna fertilize this yard with your brains." She stepped closer and touched him with the gun, right at the temple of his head.

"Stevie. Evans. I got this location from Stevie Evans. Oh my God, please do not shoot me. I am so sorry I came here," he said with his hands in the air as she patted him down, all the while keeping her weapon and eyes on him.

"Mom, fall back," he heard a guy's voice say and Kendra listened, but reluctantly backed away from Bukowski. The taller ginger walked out of the house and shut the door behind himself. "What do you want?"

Bukowski was afraid to put his hands down as he said, "I'm a caregiver at the institution that Steven Evans was sent to after his betrayal of your family. I'm not here to try anything slick. I thought that you might be willing to have a conversation with me about something that I wanted to get from you..." Max pushed Bukoski's arms down and the nervous orderly placed his hands into his pockets. "Something that you probably don't even mind parting with. Stevie has spoken to me about the videos that you and your brothers used to make." Max raised an eyebrow. "We have a resident that I think may be in one of them. I wanted to see if I could purchase it from you."

"Both of my brothers are gone. I'd like to hold on to every piece of them that I've still got left. And don't think that you can threaten or bribe me by claiming you'll tell people where I am. We stay moving, and if anybody else shows up, I already know where you work at, and I'll burn that motherfucker to the ground, with you in it."

"I wouldn't do that. I just want to make a purchase. Name your price and I'll figure out a way to get it for you."

"We've got money. We've always saved up for the event that the world fell apart. I don't need anymore and you wouldn't have enough, even if I did."

"Evans thinks that you would try to exact revenge upon him. If you could.."

"I'll deal with Stevie, in my own time, my own way."

"I don't doubt it, but… Wouldn't it kind of be beneficial to know more about the person that he's become… the person that he _will_ become? Aren't you interested in knowing your enemy's changes, so that when you do come after him, you know just what to do? I have access to him, and I have, well - not his _trust_ but a level of understanding that lets him drop his guard a little bit and wind up exposed. I could even tell you what the most important thing in the world to him right now is. Hint: It's a girl."

"A girl? You want me to believe that Stevie is caught up on a girl?" Max asked, incredulously.

"Not just any girl…" Brett pulled out his phone and showed Max a short video of Stevie and Cheerio, nuzzled together. "Was he a master of faking, or don't you think he appears to be extremely attached to her? Because, from what I've seen, he's serious as fuck and she means a lot to him."

"Who is she?" Max asked.

"My thing first, please," Brett stated, putting his phone away.

Max nodded, "Yeah. That's who I meant, Who's the nigger that _you're_ so hung up on that you came to the house of somebody that you know to have done the things that were done to her, just to try to get her footage?"

"She's my pet."

Max rolled his eyes. "Name."

He opened his mouth to say "Allie-Ann," but quickly caught himself and said, "Tesla."

Max chuckled a little. "Lucky for you, that was one of Kyle's picks. If it had been Josh's I don't know that I could give you what you wanted. Come back tomorrow with everything you have right now, on Stevie's girl. I'll have further instructions for how you'll keep in contact with me, since you've rendered this place useless, just by showing up."

"Okay. Thank you, Mr. Giardi." Max flinched at the mention of his name. He didn't go by that name anymore. Max Giardi was a ghost and he had taken on an identity that had been created for him when he was born, just in case one day he needed to change into a new Max. In case one day, everything that he worked for his entire life had been taken away… Brett simply waved at him and left.

Max spoke into a walkie talkie, "Follow him and report back." His mother had been waiting in the truck for the guy to pull off and now she was going to see where this guy was going and whatever else she could. She had one more baby left within her grasp and she didn't want whoever this loser was that knew Stevie Evans to become a threat to her boy.


	18. But I Continue Learning

_A/N: So, if anybody ever wonders why they never really see smut in my work it's because of a few reasons, actually. I don't feel like I know how to write smut, firstly. I'm not great at it and even when people end up liking it, it's usually taken a shitload of my energy to try to produce, so I generally avoid it. We know that at this point in life, Steerio is having all the sex that their bodies can sex. You won't be seeing much on that right now. If I stretch myself out on smut, they can't be teenagers. Teenager smut makes me uncomfortable. And, in the event, time frame whatever that I do write the smut, with the grown characters, don't expect too much. Before I knew I was asexual and was out here trying everything in the world to connect with my sexuality, I had some adventures, but many moons have passed and I barely remember what sex feels like, so my descriptions likely will sound like the words of somebody who knows what sex is, in theory._

 **But I Continue Learning**

Apparently the Derek fallout was the last straw for Myron. "It's one thing for him to chase off _your_ friends, but when he starts chasing off _mine,_ I'm sorry, Cheerio. I love you, but Stevie can't control _both_ of our lives. I didn't choose him, I took that bad along with the good of having you. But, I don't know how to heal when I'm exposed to so much venom. I wish you the best on your workout, though." Myron said, in the lunch line, before bringing his tray to go sit with Derek, Chase and Tesla. He'd just told her that he wasn't gonna sit with her and Stevie anymore, which to her was the ultimate slap in the face, because Myron knew how much she needed her friendship connections. Then again, so did Stevie, and that didn't seem to stop him from chasing people away. She took a seat, by herself and looked over at the group, having fun and laughing. _Where the hell was Cornflake?_

Stevie came into the cafeteria in a mood. He grabbed an apple and went to sit down across from Cheerio, with his notebook and a textbook. " _Good_ morning!" She cheered. He forced a smile and opened his book. "Are we upset today?" She wondered.

He hated when people used "we" whenever they really meant "you," but instead of pointing that out, he sighed and said, "We'll be fine."

"Will we? Because you seem like something is wrong…" He looked up at her, and now he seemed annoyed. He shut his book and ate his apple, but didn't say anything in response to her observation. "Is the invitation to try to help me with some of the parts of my routine that don't require training still open? I lost my Myron."

"Did he die?" Stevie asked, chewing.

"No, but I think _I'm_ dead to him. You may have missed the signs while not remembering anything relevant about Derek, but he and Myron have gotten pretty close. So, since I have to lose Derek during workouts, I have to lose Myron, too. I've lost him for meals." She held her hand out at the friends and Tesla was audibly laughing at something Derek was saying.

Stevie took a deep breath, finished off his apple, said, "Yeah, I'll help. Anything for my Toffee Princess," and then got up, gathered his things, kissed her on top of the head and started to leave.

"Are you gonna tell me what it is?" she wondered.

"I promise, I'll be fine." She looked worried, so he kneeled next to her seat and kissed her knee. "I promise, okay?" He left shortly afterwards.

.

Stevie had started getting a ton of hate mail. He had gotten hate mail previously from a few people that he once knew, or people who randomly discovered where he was, but now… It was almost like there was an announcement somewhere, encouraging people to send it to him. And, he wasn't someone who cared too much what a bunch of strangers said, but the volume was unnerving him. What else did they know? What else could they announce? Was his family being targeted out there?

He spoke to Dr. Pepper about it and she told him that they could screen his mail more diligently, but unless he wanted them to hold off on all of his mail, it would mean that it took longer for him to get letters (and not having regular computer access, the letters were his only doorway to the outside world for long periods of time during holidays. It would be even more scarce after he got his diploma. In summary, he didn't want to lose mail.

But, something else very weird happened - he got a letter from Dani. He was excited about it, because he had mentioned to her that he would soon be unable to communicate with her via social media, because once he was done with school, they weren't going to have access to the internet… But, she didn't mention it in her letter. She actually didn't mention anything that they chatted about. He wondered if she had forgotten the conversations - if she had gotten out into the world and missed her meds or something and was starting to lose track of herself.

Then again, it was physical mail. It was possible that she sent it out before any of the recent conversations, in which case, it would make sense that she didn't seem to know things. BUT - She also hadn't mentioned that she had written him a physical letter, either. Maybe, just maybe, this was simply a timetable thing or a surprise (because it was a happy birthday letter), but he was worried and wondered if there was anyone that he could talk to, to have them check in on her at her halfway house and see if she was doing alright.

He couldn't tell Cheerio that. She'd go to the nurses' station making demands and probably freak out in the process. He certainly couldn't tell her about the high hate mail volume. AND, he was still sporadically having bad dreams, to the point where he was changing up his cocktail, even more and was starting to suspect that might be the cause of some of his recent mood swings. Sometimes, he wished that she would just listen to him when he asked her not to worry about stuff. He was a guy. He didn't want to put all his problems on her. He put enough problems on her just by being with her. He sighed. She would have scolded him for being mean to himself if she knew that he was thinking that way.

.

Cheerio knew she needed to do something huge for Stevie's birthday. She asked Tesla to draw her a portrait, and she was offering to reimburse her in some kind of way, but the lady simply waved a hand, because it was no big deal for her. She spent most of her days drawing, anyway. Then, she wanted to get some things, BUT - she knew that they check all of her packages and might need a few of them smuggled inside. Well, Bukowski still gave her the ever-loving creeps, so she tried to make nice with Surette. "Surette, can I ask you a risky question?" she wondered.

"There's a such thing as a risky question? Wait… Do you mean _risque?_ Because, if you do, the answer is emphatically no," he said, making rounds and marking the spreadsheet on the electronic pad.

"No. I was wondering if you make deals with the residents, if it's something that's not a big deal."

"Like let you have two jellos if you're well-behaved deals?" he asked, casually, still paying more attention to his spreadsheet than the girl beside him.

"Like I want a bra and panty set and I don't know if they'll allow me to have it, because it's ultra cute and I don't know if they'll think - I don't know… That I'm using it for something devious…"

He stopped walking and turned to face her with a frown, "If you order something, it gets delivered and they look to see that it doesn't break any protocol. I hardly think that undergarments fit the bill for things not allowed. I can't recall a single time we opened a package of underwear and forbid them from entering the facility." She opened a catalog that he only just realized that she was holding and pointed to a green one.

He sighed and shrugged his shoulders, "Now, _that's_ risque… Are you certain that you're _not_ trying to be devious? Perhaps, you'd like somebody special to see it?" He asked.

"I promise that the little princess just wants to feel pretty," she lied.

"Order it and I'll check the box to make sure that nothing else is in it, then I'll be sure it gets to you…" She cut him off with thanks and a hug, but he shook her off. "Please don't do that. It's highly inappropriate. I only agreed to do something that's already a part of my job. For the record, it wasn't a deal, whatever that means… _Is somebody_ making deals with you kids?" He asked.

"Nope. Not with me! You think I'd ask YOU, of all people if I had a hookup in here?" She laughed nervously, then rushed to the nurses station. "Sandy, I have to use the computer for an underwear order, please?" She asked with a smile. (They had some access for things like that).

She had already gotten her "Sexy Leprechaun" outfit, and was coloring the ears to match her skin tone when Stevie knocked. She threw her blanket over the outfit, because it was gonna be a surprise.

"Sorry. I was just wondering, because I know that I asked you right after a very emotional song, as a makeup for a very emotional fight… Do you really want me to come here tonight? I mean, I'll understand if you don't think it's worth the risk…"

She smiled and said, "I've already got things planned for your arrival, and I'm sure you've already offered up half your soul for this opportunity. I wouldn't cancel, nor do I wish to."

He smiled brightly, "Cool. I finished with my first notebook. I think I'll give it to Stacie for safe keeping…"

"OH! I have a gift for her, from you." She said and shifted to grab something out of her nightstand. "It came in today."

"You mean that you have a gift for her from you," he said.

"Well… You don't have a credit card to access, so I went ahead and selected something whenever I made my orders for the month," she said, handing him the box. "No big deal."

"Only, it kinda is, because you've got like expensive taste and my sister will know that I didn't get whatever it is that you got here…" He opened it to look at it. "What even is this?"

"They are gardening gloves. Like, some of the best ones on the market!" she said. "And she got a free personalized apron with the purchase!" He stuffed the stuff back into the box and tried to hand it back. "I'm only going to give it to her with a tag that says it's from you, so YOU might as well give it to her, You're Welcome!"

"You know, you can't… Just… PAY for things for me, right?" he asked.

"How you figure that?" she asked. "I am severely beneath my budget, so most of my allowance that is put onto my credit card is just sitting there!" The entire sentence frustrated him. _Allowance? My credit card?_ He hugged the box to himself and thanked her, through his teeth. "Who doesn't like free stuff?" She wondered, mostly to herself.

But, when he heard it, he snapped at her, "People who don't like owing people stuff!"

Her eyes widened and she covered her chest, "Well… Think of it this way… This is all guilt money that my parents make sure that I have in addition to the gifts that they send, in order to not be here. We're taking from the rich…"

"And giving to the poor," he said, aggravated.

"I'm doing this because I care about you, that includes caring about doing something nice for your sister on y'all's birthday. I didn't realize that would be something that you wouldn't appreciate. I will never do it again…" She sniffled and he felt bad, but left the room anyway.

Stevie showered before group, so that he could sneak into Cheerio's before lockup, as planned and not have to waste time doing it there. Cheerio had on a little romper with flowers on it and appeared to be talking to Derek whenever he walked in, but stopped whenever she saw him. Derek continued his conversation with Myron, and nodded casually at Stevie. Myron willfully ignored Stevie, but started singing Bust It Baby, again. Derek commented, "I rue the day I ever let you know that song existed!"

"Me too!" Myron said, "I'M the real victim!" he laughed and leaned on Derek, as he did. "When I grow up, I wanna be somebody's Bust It Baby," Myron mused.

"Fa sho. You will be," Derek told him.

"I am gonna miss you!" Myron whined. Derek gave him a hug.

Stevie sat down and asked, "Are y'all queer together?"

"Oh my God," Cheerio said out loud. Myron moved away a few seats and Derek simply smiled uncomfortably, unsure if he should move, answer, not answer, not move… How do you respond to tacky questions from people that have already made it clear that they hate you? "Please, never say that word again or ask a question like that again, I beg of you," Cheerio said.

On that note, Derek moved over by Myron, still smiling uncomfortably and tried to comfort a seemingly thoroughly DONE Myron. Cheerio leaned to Stevie, "You can't ask people stuff like that, My Guy."

"Why not? If I thought he was queer, I'd have less of a problem with him bein' all over you and in your face," Stevie said.

"Okay, but people shouldn't have to get a sexual orientation approval from you in order for you to not harass them for befriending me. Also, people don't OWE you any explanation about their sexuality. That's personal information."

"You coulda just said, 'yes,' to my question," he told her. She rolled her eyes and faced forward. Stevie realized that he just might be starting their night off together wrong and said, "I'm sorry." She fought off a smirk, but he knew she heard him, so he let himself smirk, instead.

Dr. Pepper came in with the guitar case and set it down near Stevie, in case he wanted it. She took her seat and said, "Stevie's recent music therapy has been helpful not just to him, but to some of the rest of you, as well. While I can't force him to play the guitar if he isn't feeling like it, some of you expressed that you wouldn't mind being able to sing us a song some time, with or without music or recite to us lyrics from a song that you love, that has helped you with some emotions, or impacted your lives in a big way. So, that made me think of an assignment for all of you."

Stevie threw his head back and groaned. Pepper ignored it and mentioned, "And tonight, to start out a little inspiration with a prepared duet from Derek and Myron." Cheerio clapped excitedly for them and Myron blushed and took a deep breath. She gave him thumbs up and he covered his heart, gratefully. Derek had a book on his clap that he used to create one of his now famous beats with his knuckles, and Myron began singing "Brokenhearted" by Brandy. Derek didn't sing his parts, but spoke them, which worked fine with Myron's smooth, high registering voice. Cheerio was practically in tears by the end of it and she stood up and clapped for them.

Myron rushed to give her a hug and whimpered, "I can't stay mad at youuuuuu…"

"You were so good! That was so good, my beauty!" She said to him, strumming his hair.

Derek simply raised his hand and was given the floor. "Tonight is scheduled to be my last night here. I just want to thank everyone for being a part of my particular journey and say that I hope that I was a part of yours, but a positive part. While I am a firm believer that everyone who is placed in our paths serve a purpose and every experience that we have is an opportunity for us to make good decisions, I know that I aspire to only be the type of person who doesn't make negative movements in other people's lives. I apologize to anybody that was true for during my stay here, and I am grateful for those who have helped me to grow, as well." Myron clapped so hard that he made his hands sting and itch. Cheerio couldn't help but to put a fist over her mouth and wave her other hand in the air. Stevie folded his arms and sat back in his seat.

Pepper went on to say, "The assignment is to make me a list of songs that could be either a soundtrack for your life, a representation of a specific incident or event, or songs that you associate with people and the people that you associate them with. Since Dr. Campion allowed us to bring back CD players, I will make each of you a CD of your song selections…" They all cheered, "And if you want, we can all listen with you during our group session and you can tell us about certain song's importance to you. If not, you'll at least have a CD of songs that make you feel better…"

"Do they have to be songs that make you feel better, or songs that you relate to?" Stevie asked.

"Well… Songs that you relate to…" She answered, hesitantly.

"Cornflake only listens to whiny ass dude songs," Cheerio informed the room. He grimaced, but wasn't going to say anything to ruin him being able to be balls deep in her all night long.

She was already writing down song selections in her notepad and raised her hand now, "And what is the maximum amount of songs that we may put on this list?"

"I'm going to say 20," Pepper answered.

Cheerio looked at her notepad, "Yeah, then we'll definitely need an A and B list, because some of you might have to get cut…" She raised her hand, "And can we put a song on here that should be something that somebody OUGHT to think of when they think of us?"

"What?" Dr. Pepper asked.

Cheerio looked up, "For instance, if somebody ought to think of me when they hear a song, can I put it on MY list, even though I know that they don't think of these words for me, so it doesn't ACTUALLY relate, but I wish it did?"

"Well, I suppose. If it has an impact on _you,_ you could for example tell us why you feel that someone should be professing these lyrics to you by explaining to us what they've done to make you feel this way…" Cheerio nodded and began to write again.

Stevie asked, "What song are you talking about?"

"Mind your business, Cornflake," she said, and kept writing.

"Sounds like my business. There'd better not be anybody else in here that you're saying a song should be from!"

She took a deep breath, sat up straight and told him, "I was talking about my parents, but please, let's make everything about you, again…"

He shook his head, "Sorry, I wasn't tryin' to… Sorry." He put his head down and she went back to her list. Stevie nervously shook his knee. Had he _already_ enraged her enough to miss out on his free pass night? She _did_ say that she didn't want to cancel, but was he changing her mind? She seemed bothered by him.

"That won't work out at all. Radja would never even think that, much less…" She was mumbling. _Oh shit,_ Stevie thought. _She's thinkin' about her parents…_ It wasn't HIM that was making her mood change, it was thinking about them and this always, ALWAYS made everything else go wrong.

Stevie reached for the guitar case and decided that he was going to play it, for his own soul and to maybe distract her from whatever thoughts she was having about how much her parents _didn't_ love her like songs suggested. Instead, he raised his hand and announced, "Whenever I think about my momma, and I have been lately, because I'm coming upon another birthday without her and last time, I still wasn't quite ready to even think about the fact that she was gone…" Cheerio's pen paused and he knew that she was listening to him, so he was glad at least that he'd distracted her. "I think of her as an angel. I know she wasn't. She was actually a kinda horrible person, but she also provided life and guidance for me and used to tell me that if I didn't bring home a girl that loved me more than she did, she'd send her packin,' _every_ time. So, whenever I'm into a girl…" Cheerio sat up now, but didn't look at him, "I compare how she treats me to how my momma treated me…" Cheerio scoffed. From what she'd heard, that wasn't a difficult beat. "So, I have a song to dedicate to my momma and also, to whatever woman the universe sends into my future." She curled her lips and was about to keep writing, at the mere suggestion that SHE wasn't "the one," but whenever he started playing and singing, she paused and looked at him.

Angels by Robbie Williams, but it was acoustic, and like most of the things that Stevie sang, he made it sound like a country song, because of his thick accent. This sounded better to her… She closed her notepad, absentmindedly as he played and sang. When he finished, she was ready to slip her panties off and place them right into his hands. He smiled at her and blew her a kiss. She sank in her seat and adjusted her legs, mainly because her coochie was trying to hop onto him. He smiled wider and simply casually strummed on the guitar through the rest of group.

At the end of it, he put away the guitar into the guitar case as Pepper asked him, "So, how is your relationship with Cheri going?"

"My what?" he asked, and shut the case.

"She seems to be helping you out with empathy," she said.

"You weren't there when I slipped up and said the N word," Stevie told her.

"Wanna tell me about that?" she wondered.

"I mean… I could, I guess. Maybe in our sessions?" He asked.

She smiled and nodded. "Sure… In those…" She looked at the ground.

"What?"

"Well, it's just that usually if we keep a resident beyond 18, they go to Biff. The only way that they stay with me is if we're in the middle of something, or if they request to stay with me, after which Biff will convince them that the reason he is now their therapist is because I failed them. It's always bittersweet to see you guys go, but it's also necessary, if I can't help you."

He gave her a pat on the shoulder and told her, "Don't worry. Nobody named "Biff" is gonna help me much, either. I've already got a psychological block on taking him seriously. Like, I take him WAY less serious than I do somebody named Dr. Fuckin' Pepper."

She fought a smile, "Stevie, you do realize that you have to _want_ the help, right?"

"I want the help. The meds. The structure. The lack of obligations like… Being a good son, a good brother, a good student, AND a good soldier… I've gotten more help here than anywhere."

"Okay. But, I just hope that help isn't tethered to a temporary fixture, here."

"Are… You… About to suggest that Cheerio be freed?"

"I'm only trying to be sure that you realize that when she is suggested for release, there will not likely be any pushback on it, and I want to know that you'll be able to still receive help without that connection."

"I guess I'll see," he said, sadly. _Probably not. Most likely not. Hell no._

He smiled falsely and Bukowski peeked in and wondered, "Evans - you gonna go to bed, or not?"

Stevie gave Dr. Pepper a hug and she made a surprised little yelp. She furrowed her eyebrows and returned the hug, with a pat on his back. "I'ma tell them I want you," he said.

She smiled softly and jerked her head towards the door, "Get to bed, Stevie. And Happy Birthday," she said, and gave him a squeeze on the shoulder.

Whenever Stevie was in the corridor with Bukowski, Bukowski asked, "Is she your type of older woman?"

"No," Stevie said. _Did he HAVE to chitchat with him, in addition to making deals?_ Bukowski seemed to be waiting something, so he expounded, "I mean, sorta, but not really… I have only ever dated or fucked with redheads or blonds and MOSTLY blonds, and only have been with blond older women. So, I mean - I like redheads, but generally around my age."

"Gingers are in season these days. When I was in school, not at all. There wasn't one girl that ever paid any attention to me. Now, they claim that if they knew me back then, they'd have liked me etc..."

"Well, I don't know. Redhead dudes are still pretty fuckin' lame. No offense."

"I found a community of black girls who love us," Bukowski bragged.

"Ew. That sounds like a mess of a party," Stevie said. "Does anybody love _you?"_ Bukowski laughed at Stevie's question as he went into Cheerio's room and closed the door.

.

He heard the shower and also heard the door lock, so he went into the bathroom and looked at Cheerio's silhouette in the steam and water. He knocked on the wall and said, "Babe, I'm here. Don't be alarmed." The water was immediately turned off.

"Wait in there, please," she told him. Stevie went back into the bedroom, and ventured around it, studying her things. She actually had a lot of stuff in here. He didn't think that this much stuff was allowed… He heard her movement enter the room and turned around to see her with her head covered in a pretty, green scarf and a bra and panty set that hardly covered anything. He froze and clenched his hands. "Good God…"

"Okay, but you've seen me naked, so…?"

"I mean, I've seen naked parts of you in quick increments when I had to try to get you off without getting caught. This is not that…" He was a little bit timid, to be honest.

"I know that you love blue, but I can't pull it off very well, also, in the spirit of the holiday…"

"You could pull off anything, and I don't necessarily love blue…" She came closer, a bit shy herself, and stopped in front of him.

"Well, you wear it a lot, so I presumed it was your favorite," she said, starting to unbutton the front of his shirt, but not making eye contact with him.

"I only starting wearing it a lot _after_ you told me that my eyes make me irresistible when I'm wearing it."

She broke out into a bright smile, finally looking up at his face, "I said that when you were still being silent!"

"Yeah, but I wasn't bein' deaf."

"Okay, but you've insisted that you hated my guts at that time, but you changed your wardrobe for me, though?"

"Something about being wanted by a beauty queen. That was irresistible, to me…" He shrugged his shoulders and she took off the shirt.

"Why you came here in TWO shirts?" she asked, annoyed as she reached to try to pull off the second one.

"Because whenever I emerge in the morning, I'm gonna just leave that overshirt in here, like I changed clothes."

"But, you've got on the same jeans."

"Nobody but you would pay attention to that…" He reached for his pants now, somewhat eager to get out of them. "I gotta say that your titties look delectable in that."

"It's a push up!" she said excitedly, accentuating the usage with both hands as she did. "Makes me look like I've got more titty than I do. I know, it's kinda like false advertising, but I was trying to look extra sexy to take attention away from the hair protection I gotta wear on my head."

"I'm gonna munch on whatever amount of titty you show up with…" she laughed loudly, as he finished, "And honestly, you could have a Slipknot mask on and I'm still licking everywhere on you my tongue can reach. This time, I get to take my time…" He kicked off his jeans, got down on his knees and pulled her close to him, just to admire for a moment. "This is my favorite act of worship."

"You know it makes me highly uncomfortable when you talk religious before sex."

"Blasphemy is an aphrodisiac. I don't know _why_ you disagree."

"Something about the idea of getting smote right in my bootyhole, maybe."

"If there was a God, and He smote me while I'm balls deep in you, I'm dying happy."

"Um, then going to Hell? Look, I love your cock, you know I do - but not to be burning for all eternity for."

"I'm wounded," he said, caressing her backside with both of his hands. He stood up and hoisted her up, with her legs around his waist to bring her to the bed. "I better make it count, in case I wind up in hell and you're safe because you refused the blasphemy."

.

It wasn't all just sex. They actually had quite a few conversations. Conversations while holding hands, and in between kissing and cuddles. Contrary to popular belief, because he hated for people to get into his bubble, Stevie was actually extremely affectionate and admittedly craving it, when he was involved with someone, and they were more than just involved. Stevie loved this girl. He knew it, and even if he didn't say it, he figured that she probably knew it, too. He wasn't sure if she loved him in the same way, but he definitely felt love from her.

He felt super bad for days, watching the bruises on her wrists from when he grabbed her change colors and forms, and her try to avoid touching them or making even the slightest contact with them. He honestly hated himself, even now that they were faded. He kept picturing them there, on her and then picturing himself hurt her, then wallowing in guilt and thinking about every single bad or wrong thing that he ever did to her and all of the possibilities in their future, of doing more harm… Then he remembered that she was likely leaving soon, and that was even harder and more hurtful to consider.

"What are you thinking about, Cornflake?" She asked, stroking his hair.

"The fact that not one time that we've fucked have you seemed bothered by my sweat," he lied. But, now he was thinking about that, so it was okay. She just laughed lightly.

"You're very good at what you do. It's hard not to be impressed from head to toe with you on the job." He looked up at her and she blushed and made him smile. His head was rested on her chest, and his arms rested as close to her as possible without being beneath her, because that made her uncomfortable.

"I had a lot of practice," he bragged.

"How are you even satisfied with me, then?" she wondered.

He strummed his fingers up and down her arm, "I guess the same way somebody who has had McDonald's everyday for years might be satisfied with a home cooked meal, even though it isn't from a world renowned chef." She laughed again. "Like… Would he really be like, 'Girl, this meatloaf sucks. You didn't even season it!' or would be be grateful that it's not another fuckin' mcrib?"

"You think of things so bizarrely!" She whispered.

"You mean gloriously?" he asked, reaching for a breast. He just wanted to palm it, for no reason, really… Because it was there.

"I mean… _meatloaf?_ A bitch can't be anything else - something less gross?"

He quickly sat up and glared at her, "I should have known you would hate meatloaf."

"It is the omega of dinner meats."

"What is the alpha?"

"Steak, naturally."

"I meant to speak of something that would be easy to make and a little more common."

"Because I'm common?"

"No… Because I figured everyone everywhere has had meatloaf. It's not specific to a region or class… or so I thought."

"I mean, I have had it served to me at places. I'd much prefer a nice roasted brisket, or even a Thanksgiving turkey. A meatloaf. Might as well be the McDonald's."

"I'm not taking this slander against meatloaf."

"You talk shit on God himself, but draw the line at musty ass meatloaf?"

"MUSTY? How… can meatloaf even? My momma made meatloaf and it was amazing. There was love and savory seasonings in every bite!"

"I thought white people didn't season their food."

"Are we going to talk about white people vs black people, because that has the potential to go so wrong, I might end up with a neck brace."

She laughed, "No, we will not. Don't say anything, unless it's something nice."

"Like how I don't know if I can ever be with another white girl, now?" he suggested.

"I'm in the mindset that I can't currently imagine being with _anyone_ else, but I guess we're in different spaces…"

"Yeah…" He shifted to lean on the wall next to her. "I mean, one of us is leaving pretty soon. The other is gonna be here for a while." He sighed, "But, I really appreciate how your skin is really light, but your nipples are super dark. It just is a much prettier contrast than that pink on beige nonsense that I was used to." She pinched the bridge of her nose, but he kept going, "And like, okay, your pussy… right… It's like darker than I would have thought. Like, I guess I thought because you're so light, that the stuff that stays covered up would be light. I mean, you've got tanlines, and those are super hot, but like down there, you're still that caramel kinda lookin' color and when I spread you, it's perfectly pink! In comparison, the beige on pink is bland. It's like… I dunno… Unseasoned chicken…"

"Well, you know, they say that once you go black, you never go back," she uttered.

"Do they? Is that like… really a thing?"

"It's a tacky thing that sometimes gets said. I don't know the origins, though."

"I'm not going back," he said.

"I'm a little salty that Tesla got it first," she said and shrugged her shoulders. While they were being honest…

"That was very different," he said, suddenly crestfallen. "I didn't want that. I didn't want to do it, and I don't think that she did either. I think we both just kinda pushed through it. As soon as we were done, she purged herself in the shower. I hate whenever somebody showers right afterwards. It always reminds me that I'm dirty white trash. They can't even wait until I'm gone to be rid of my stink, you know?" She tilted her head in confusion. He continued, "And I'm left there, remembering that no matter how many women or girls I go through, I'm still the same filth I was whenever they laid down with me. You forget for a moment. When you're given that invitation. You get to lose yourself a bit, inside of them. Then, BOOM! They're being cleansed and you've just become even dirtier. No matter how many of them are willing to fuck you, they don't want anything lasting with you. They want even the contact your bodies made gone."

"I doubt that _nobody_ wanted anything lasting with you," she said. "I seem to remember Pendleton explicitly stating that she was willing to be your _old lady_ when you went back into Nazi world, after you got out and help you rebuild yourself up in the ranks."

Stevie threw his head back in shame. "I can't believe that I wanted to rid myself of you so much that I went _there,_ with _that."_

"Did _she_ ever shower afterwards?" Cheerio asked.

"You kidding? She used to tell me that she had my cum dripping down her leg, like… in the middle of lunch!"

Cheerio laughed. "So, admit that not everybody thinks that you're filthy and maybe even nobody did…"

"I was just saying how it feels to me." He wrapped an arm around her and gave her a kiss on the forehead, "Thank you for trying to make me feel better about my filth."

"I like your filth. I like your stink. If you're somebody's trash, Cornflake, you can be my treasure, if you want." His penis enlarged and her cupped her chin to kiss her..

"I do want."


	19. I Never Meant to Do Those Things to You

**I Never Meant to Do Those Things to You**

Cheerio woke up with a bundle of Stevie encased tightly around her. It was surprisingly comfy. He was softer than he looked. She almost didn't want to get out of bed but she knew that the doors would be opening soon and that they couldn't get caught. She managed to reach for her nightstand for mints and threw several into her mouth. No way was he waking up to dragon breath on his birthday. "Cornflake," she whispered and touched his face. He made a moaning sound, cuddled closer to her and pushed his erection on her. "Are you… awake?" He moved his hips against her. "Are you seducing me in your sleep?" He just continued his motion. She popped a mint into his mouth and he jolted awake and confused, looked around the room. "Good morning," she said, fighting a giggle, "Happy Birthday and Happy St. Patrick's Day."

"Why is there a mint?" he asked, barely cohesive.

"Morning breath. Your toothbrush isn't here and I couldn't get to mine because I had you wrapped around me like a python!"

"You're about to have me slither inside you like a python." Stevie laid back down and collected her again. "You ever have a snugglefuck?" He asked. "They're heaven in the morning…"

"Can't say that I…" he licked his fingers and began to get her ready for his entry and she spread her legs so that he could access her better. When he slid inside of her, he commented, "Now, it's a happy birthday."

.

The door unlocked at the usual time and by that time, Stevie was up and dressed. Cheerio was still laying down, naked and freshly fucked with a smile on her face. He approached the door and hid behind it as he opened it. She checked and there was nobody there, so she nodded and he slid out, casually. She stayed in bed, letting her body frequent every former sensation all the way through breakfast. Eventually, she got up to wash up, get dressed, and face the day. She was dancing down the hallway and making movements similar to ballet whenever she did pretty much anything. Stevie was on the couch, just watching her go about her day, smiling at her from afar, and pleased with himself (taking credit for the mood that she was in).

Whenever Stacie came to visit Stevie, she brought some things that Cheerio had ordered from her. Cheerio rushed over and hugged her, thanking her as she accepted the items that were approved at the front desk already. "Oh, wow… Don't you look festive?" Stacie asked, looking her over and giggling. "I wish I had the body and the confidence for things like that."

Stevie asked, "Wouldn't you still just hide it for your future husband?"

Stacie took a seat and said, "I guess, I would. I don't see him in my _near_ future, so I can't say for sure that I won't eventually let this muffin top breathe." She slid a jewelry box across the table to him. "Happy Birthday, Steves."

He slid her Cheerio's box and said, "Happy Birthday, Stace."

They each opened their presents and she gasped and took out the gloves, "There is NO WAY that you are responsible for this!"

"Guilty. Your girlfriend bought them. She said there's a free personalized apron, too."

She dug it out and laughed, because it said "Susie Q" on it. "It has pockets!"

"Both of you have officially done more for each other than I've done for either of y'all. You really are her boyfriend now," he said to her confusion as he took out the bracelet that Stacie most likely made for him. It was made with blue and green beads, some with peace signs, some earth shaped, some with four leafed clovers, and some aquamarine gems - their birthstone. "This is great!" He cheered and noticed that she had one too, as he put it on. "When was the last time that we wore something matching?"

"Our 13th birthday!" She cheered, "We saved up the money from peddling your poems, romantic letters and song lyrics and my flowers and jewelry -"

"Oh God - our Valentines' hustle! We went to thrift stores and dollar stores to buy a bunch of shamrock stuff and put on nothing but green and put up green stuff in the middle of the night so when Mama and Daddy woke up, the living room and kitchen was all decked out like it was for St. Patrick's Day!" They both cackled, remembering their mother's face when she came in and they were casually having oatmeal and cereal.

"Mama was SO mad, and Daddy just told her, 'Mary, let the damn kids enjoy being alive for once. At least give 'em credit for bein' able to work together like this.'" Stacie laughed. "That was the best birthday!"

Stevie stopped smiling, "Yeah… Had no idea that the year would make such a drastic turn in a couple of months."

She sighed and tinkered with her bracelet, "We stopped bein' best friends."

He stared at the table, "I was going somewhere, and even though I didn't think that there was anything wrong with where I was going - I just knew that I couldn't take you along with me. You were sweet and innocent. You were loving and peaceful. You couldn't be a soldier and I had been preparing almost my whole life to be one."

"You could have at least not shut me out. I watched you change right in front of me, and I still knew you, but you'd become so withdrawn. I could never really reach you again. It felt like you gave me _other_ Stevie. Foundation Identity Stevie. Meanwhile, your friends were getting the man that you were becoming. When you came back from camp, I was so excited to know about everything that you did and you very cheerfully gave me all these activities, and for a moment, I was really excited. But, I looked at your eyes and I could tell that you were lyin.' You were telling me something that you thought that I wanted to hear. I couldn't figure out why, or how you lied to me so easily."

"You're right. I did give you Foundation Identity Stevie. He was the perfect kid. He was going to be a perfect cover. Unfortunately, he lived inside of actual Stevie… And _he's_ a fuckup. I didn't know it then, but I'm glad that I protected you from him. I've never felt better about any decision than I do about shutting you out of that world and not even letting my friends anywhere near you. You weren't gonna be a soldier and you weren't gonna be somebody's old lady or neglected and abused wife, 's what happens. The women I met were so soulless and empty, or just as willing to die for everything as we were. You didn't need to be either. That's why all these years later, you're the only Evans kid that hasn't been locked up."

"What makes you think that if you had shared your world with me that I wouldn't _still_ be who I am, now? Stevie… I wanted to continue knowing my brother. I didn't want to share your world, just wanted you to be honest with me and share yourself. I needed you so much that year and we drifted further and further apart. I had to love you from afar and we were under the same roof." He fought off tears threatening his eyes. Why couldn't she understand how hard it was for him and appreciate that he protected her from all of this? "I started my period, that year. Mama made me feel so weird about it. Like, she just thought I was gonna start having boys all the time. She got crazy overbearing, meanwhile - you'd spend nights at friends, sometimes ALL week. Then, we I did get that close with a group of friends, Daddy banned them from the house…"

Stevie took a deep breath, "You blame me for that, too?"

"No! That was completely Daddy's fault! And probably Mama's too. You didn't do anything wrong and neither did me or my friends."

"The thing that I did wrong was admitting that I thought Shaunice was pretty."

"Steves, at 13… That ain't something that should cause the… disgusting explosion that happened that night! You were… bruised. You could barely walk." She started crying, "I thought he was gonna kill you. I'd never seen Daddy so mad. He'd never terrified me before and that night - I was so scared that I ran to Mama and wondered if we should call the police! She just hugged me tight and said, 'He's just trying to protect y'all.' _Protect us,_ from what? Having good taste? Good eye sight? Shaunice WAS pretty, and she looks OMG - AMAZING now. Tryin' to protect us by beating you like you were some common thug that had broken into the house to try to kill us?"

"Well, he was also drunk, so there's that, and it wasn't like he'd put a belt to me and I laid down and cried into a pillow. I tried to fight him off. That just made it worst. I shouldn't have said anything, then after I fucked up and said something, I should have just shut up, took my whipping and never made the same mistake again. Instead, I said it, out loud - I _knew_ it would start a fight, at least, then I fought back. An angry, drunk dude that has been bigger and stronger than me my whole life. I didn't even think that I could take him. I just thought… I'm too old for this. He can't MAKE me do anything." Stevie's hands were shaking, "Lo and behold, I was wrong. Then, he topped it off with, ' _And if you ever bring one of 'em home, it'll be worse.'_ However, couldn't help but notice how that momentum changed when it was Sammy."

"Daddy had changed by the time Sammy met Mercy," Stacie offered, still crying.

"We all had. But… He was _always_ the grown ass man, and I don't want to talk about this anymore."

"He was, so you should realize that it wasn't your fault. But, you kinda sounded like you took some responsibility for that. You aren't responsible for the things that adults did to you when you didn't have the power to stop them. Not Daddy hitting you, not women having sex with you, not terrorists indoctrinating you. But, now… You're a man. You're here to find yourself and figure out who you're going to be. I don't think that the Stevie I was best friends with for 13 years could grow into someone who wallows in guilt and pity. The Stevie that I watched transform into what they made you to be had been my hero. Daddy was Sammy's. Sammy was yours. But, _you_ were mine, Steves." He looked at her with surprise, but she kept speaking, "They broke you, but you're so strong - I know that you'll heal. I'm glad that you have somebody to do that with," she said and glanced over at Cheerio, who seemed to be organizing a table for what Stacie guessed was going to be Stevie's birthday "party."

"She's alright," Stevie said and shrugged his shoulders, sniffling about the raw emotion that his sister had just poked around in. He set another box on the table with various items in it and told her, "I had to pack up my room today. Some of this stuff I want to have in storage somewhere, so that I don't run the risk of getting rid of it whenever I have to assess my possessions. Can you please take this with you and hide it somewhere?"

"Of course. We have plenty of storage room, now that Daddy's got a house."

Stevie nodded, tapped his full notebook and said, You can also read this, if you want."

"Do you want me to?" she asked.

"I'd definitely prefer if you didn't..."

"Then, you know that I won't."

"But, there's stuff in it that I think I want you to know, and I don't know if I'll ever be able to actually tell you…"

"Then, I will save it and when you're ready for me to know, I'll read it then." She put it into her huge tote bag as Cheerio went around to tables passing out gold wrapped chocolates to everyone from her pot shaped basket and birthday hats, to some. "She's excited about today. Are you?"

"I get a bigger room and I'll be able to hold onto a little bit more stuff. There are talks of the director allowing residents to have access to their own cell phones, only that we wouldn't be able to have them at all times. Like, we would have to turn them over when it's time for sessions, and whenever it's lights out and stuff. That's kinda cool. It's better than not having any." He was fiddling with his bracelet when he suddenly realized something, "I've never told you about having sex with any adult women, and Sammy missed out on that rite of passage, so where did you get that idea from?"

She bit her lip and winced, "Don't be mad… Cheerio casually mentioned that we should try to stop the women who molested you, concerned that they might be still out there doing it. I'm sure she presumed that I _did_ know about it." He looked disappointed. "But, since we're on the topic… It wasn't anybody that I knew, was it? Neighbors? Family friends?"

"Not at first. At the… Whenever we went to camp, you might have eventually met or come across them, but they were Foundation ladies, they weren't in normal, everyday rotation. There were like about 30 of them at camp, and I lucked out with the best three, for performing so well." Stacie looked pale. "Not at that!" He laughed, "But, that was the reason that they introduced me to some of their friends."

"How many women did something to you?" She asked, concerned.

He leaned forward and whispered, "Thirteen." Her hands immediately covered her mouth. "I promise, it's not like y'all are all thinking."

"What it sounds like is that these predators had so much fun with you that they shared you with their equally rapey friends!"

"It was women, Stace. Calm down. I didn't even know that I was abused until I started unpacking my history to "get better." He made quotation marks with his fingers.

"Stevie, that trauma would have eventually mattered to you, if it hasn't _already_ affected you. Who were they. I want names."

"What're you gonna do?" he wondered.

"I just want to see these… people."

He sighed. "I couldn't tell you the friends' names, but my trinity was Cassandra July, Charlie Darling, and…" he smiled, "Candace Dystra. She let me call her "Candy," like her friends did. NONE of the other boys got that privilege."

Stacie gagged. "I know all three of those people!" They are all friends with Daddy on social media!" She rubbed her temples, "I'm gonna go so far as to say that I'm almost certain he's slept with at least one of them since Mama…"

"Daddy's… already sleeping with people?"

She frowned. First off, it had been over a year, and secondly, _he'd_ been with more women than Dwight had! Not to mention, their mother killed that relationship long before she died. "Wouldn't _you_ be, if you were him?" She asked, instead of voicing any of that stuff.

"I mean… I guess. I wouldn't have gotten married in the first place." They were silent for a moment. "Which one?" He had to admit, he was curious who he and his dad might have in common.

"That Cassandra July woman." She says some really suggestive things on his wall and he usually just replies with a smile emoji of some sort. I am going to be fucking sick." Stacie using the "F" word was always a sign of super emotion. Stevie worried.

"You can't tell him!" Stevie insisted. He shook his head, "I swear, Stacie - that's not something that you can tell him, not about me!"

"Stevie… Daddy might be messin' around with a woman who not only diddles kids, but did it to _his!"_

"And what? I owe him the emotional response that could have on me, for him to know about that?"

"Sammy told you and Daddy all about what happened to him and Daddy was very understanding about it and supportive."

"I ain't Sammy!" He buried his face in his hands and rubbed his eyes. "Can you just, please… Not tell him about this? Like, ever? Just… Be my twin and don't."

She groaned in frustration and rubbed his shoulders, "I won't. I just… If she's still doing this… Stevie - you could prevent this happening to another kid…"

"That's not my job!" Stevie fussed swatting her hands off of him. "I'm trying to fix me. I don't have ROOM to try to help other people's kids because their dads, like mine, don't give enough of a shit to protect them!" He slapped the table and shook his head, softly saying, "Sorry. I didn't mean that."

"No, you did." She nodded, "And, you know what - you're right. Children should be protected by their families. They honestly should be protected about anybody that can help. That's why I can't sit on this."

"They'll have something in place to protect themselves, and they'll make you look like a crazy person. Stacie, this isn't some half-assed, dim-witted white power outfit. This is THE Foundation. You have no idea how far out and how deep inside they can reach."

"Stevie… They don't rule the world!"

"Yeah, but they got a damned good chunk of an inheritance in it, especially this country. You know how Mama always said that the best trick the Devil ever done was making people think he ain't real? It's kinda like that, but we know this devil is real and so are its friends and followers. What - you think that _Schuester_ was the head of this monster?" He chuckled, "Even if he was a king on the board, Stace… He'd _still_ be a piece, and somebody else would still be playing this game. The Foundation is the chess board. The players are out of most of our awareness. In fact, Schuester himself had his hands in so many different groups, groups that aren't meant to even work together, in order to keep people off of the trail of who we actually follow. All we can be sure of is that at the top of this pyramid is a white entity. That's one of the reasons that regular people usually say "brotherhood" and people like the St. Jameses say "foundation."

"Okay… So, let me get this straight - The Foundation, these white power groups, the KKK, the Neo-Nazis and everybody like that all work for the same supergroup, basically?"

"No. Not at all. We have varying ideologies and practices, to the point where we seem to be different groups and have different goals. We often DO have different goals. What I'm saying is no matter what group you're a part of, the Foundation can reach it and touch it." She looked as confused as he felt trying to describe this to her.

"Look at it this way - Jews, Muslims, and Christians - They all say that they serve the God of Abraham, but nobody ever mixes them up, because they're not the same and they know it, and we all know it. But, IF all of those groups ARE built upon the same God, He can use them all to His end, whether or not any of them are doing the thing that He said to do."

"And the Foundation is God in this example?" She asked.

"Well, yeah. Though, it is more an anti-God."

"Is that why you gave up your faith?'

"Not exactly. I never had any. Living where we did, with what we lived with? The only salvation that I saw in my future was the rise of white power." He shrugged his shoulders, "I only got baptized with you so that you didn't feel alone. God hadn't made sense to me since before Sam was taken away. God didn't make much sense to me, always watching, but never helping? Loves the children, but we were always miserable? And then, the one good thing that we had, at least that I thought we had was taken away. I know, I know - Sam did something wrong and had to be punished… But, I never quite understood why if there was a God, how He would even LET Sam and his friends do things like that to somebody." She opened her mouth and he waved both his hands, "I'm a grown man. I don't need you to try to explain it to me. You had something to believe in to bring you through our life. I _found_ something to believe in."

"It let you down," she pointed out.

"And God didn't let you down? This is the life that you just believe that you were _meant_ to live?" He smiled, sympathetically. She was offended by the expression, but just sighed. He looked over at Cheerio, setting cafeteria cupcakes on the table, arranging them like a cake. "That's the only good thing besides you that I think I've ever had, and I get to lose her soon." He chuckled a bit, then rested his head on the table.

"Why do you lose her?"

"Dr. Pepper basically told me that she's gonna get out soon, asking me if I was gonna be alright in the event. I'm not."

"Stevie, you've been abused and misused and you've endured that. You'll be alright."

"She _makes me_ alright." He sat up. "Not even _good."_

"Sounds like you're in love."

Stevie turned red in the face and looked at the table, "That's the stupidest thing that you've said all day." She simply smiled at the table. "Course, I am." Now, she smiled brightly and looked up at him. He was still looking at the table, but was wearing a smirk.

.

After Stacie left, Cheerio ushered Stevie over to a gathering that had a clearly depressed and unenthused Myron, a leery-but-hopeful Chase, and an excited Tesla wearing birthday cone hats. Cheerio held out her hands, and everybody cognizant enough in the room began singing happy birthday. They all said, "Dear Cornflake," and Stevie started laughing, but had tears in his eyes. Probably joyous tears. Whenever they were done, she let them grab cupcakes from the cupcake "cake" that she built. It was just a bunch of cupcakes set close to each other. Stevie pulled her onto his lap and kissed her behind the ear, "Thank you."

"Everyone was very excited, you see?"

"I see that you bribed everyone with candy coins and cupcakes to pretend that they gave a fuck about my birthday. That was extremely sweet and had to be tiring."

"It was extremely tiring. They couldn't remember our deal, and then wouldn't listen as I tried to remind them when I was passing out St. Patty's day cheer."

"Do you just dress like a fuckable holiday decoration and claim to be spreading cheer every holiday?"

"Pretty much."

"That's the only way I'll celebrate any, to be honest."

She gave him a kiss on the lips and he tried to devour her mouth. "Mmm.. This is good. Why do your lips always taste so damn good?"

"It's birthday cake lip gloss!" She bragged.

"So good," he reiterated, still nibbling. "Never realized that my life needed birthday cake kisses, but I'ma want 'em every year, now."

"Evans!" Surette called out and Cheerio jumped up from his lap.

"Notice how he called _my_ name, not yours?" Stevie asked.

"Technically, you're the adult," she said and sat in the seat next to him. Stevie pushed an entire cupcake into his mouth and her eyes widened, "I will never understand the way you eat," she said with a giggle. "You do realize that our teeth are made for chewing, right?"

"I am chewing!" he said, muffled with his slightly full mouth. He swallowed, "I just take big bites. Unlike you, who acts like every meal is her first time seeing food and she has no idea whether or not she wants to actually eat it."

"I have every idea, and I generally DO NOT want to eat it, because the only thing edible in this place is the salad, and that's because I made them start ordering a greener leafy greens mix. The fuck is iceberg lettuce? This ain't no soup kitchen."

"Every day you eat a tray full of spring mix with no dressing and drink water. How do you even still have meat on your bones?"

"I eat eggs and potatoes in the mornings, and I take a lot of vitamins."

"You eat a portion of an egg and like three tater tots that they pretend are hash browns."

"Right, every morning, though."

"You couldn't have possibly eaten like that when you were a gymnast. Don't you want to get back to that?"

"I can't from here. I ate nothing but top quality, grade A, all natural, organic, cruelty free everything. The healthiest stock. So, right now, I'm just focused on the cheerleading, and the transition back into dance. There's no way I'm going back to gymnastics after this lengthy break where I literally couldn't keep up with the training that it takes to do that." She said it sadly.

"Then, you might as well have a cupcake," he said and reached for another one to tempt her with. When she pulled her face back from him completely, he simply stuffed that one into his mouth as well. "Hey - Is everybody gonna be alright with all this sugar you've given them?"

"Yes. I had permission and the staff watched me pass everything around. Anyways, gifts time!" She reached for one and said, "This is from Myron and Derek."

"It's from you," Myron corrected her as she handed over the gift bag.

Stevie looked into it and saw a little boerboel plushie. "Awww. Thank you, Myron and Derek."

"Derek is gone," Myron reminded everyone, then got up and left the table.

"This one is from Chase!" Cheerio said.

Chase smiled as Stevie pulled out an open front photo frame that Chase must have made in art therapy and it looked like a child had, complete with clover decals and green glitter.

"Whoa. That is really something, Buddy. I love it. Thank you," Stevie said.

Chase smiled brightly. He tried not to, but couldn't help it. He had worked hard on that. "There's a card in there too!" He said.

Stevie pulled out a card with a photo of his dogs on it and a Happy Birthday from them and "All of us who love you," which Chase had beautifully scripted inside and gotten everyone to sign. "Th… Thanks, Chase." Stevie was suddenly extremely depressed.

Tesla clapped her hands and pointed to herself. "Tesla's turn!" Chase cheered.

Cheerio grabbed another, "This one is from Tesla."

Tesla began gesturing and Chase translated _because he already knew this information, "It's called Good Luck Charm."_

"It's called charades. When you do all that gesturing and stuff. Charades," Stevie pointed out, a little bit grumpy. Tesla's smile faded and she looked confused at Cheerio, who cleared her throat and handed Stevie his present from Tesla. It was an excellently accurate drawing of Cheerio in her leprechaun outfit, bursting out of a pot of gold as Stevie kissed her on the cheek. Tesla demonstrated that it was made to fit Chase's frame, and Stevie said, "Thanks," but everyone could tell that something had shifted. He wasn't okay, for some reason.

"This one is from Dani," Cheerio said… And Stevie suddenly knew what the hell was wrong with him. These weren't his friends. These were people he was _stuck_ with. And the people he _did_ make friends with here, he was being separated from. Dani, when she was released, and soon, Cheerio, too.

"That's not funny or cute," he said.

She frowned and handed it over, "Yeah, no. She actually bought this for you with her hard earned money that she made at the coffee shop and went into Pieces of Mercy to make sure that Stacie got it in time enough for this visit, since she's not allowed to come back in here to visit!" She snapped, annoyed with his mood swing.

"What are you talking about?" Stevie asked.

"Dani! Open the damn gift bag and PRETEND that my effort matters, for a few minutes, Cornflake!" She was now flustered to where Chase was nervous and Tesla grabbed his hand to comfort him. Stevie took a deep breath and reached into the bag to pull out a yearbook from his previous school. "Because, you're in it, but you didn't get to finish out the year. She wanted to try to get your letterman for baseball, but they said that she couldn't since you were no longer on the team." Stevie started crying and shook his head as he got up. He couldn't handle this. "Cornflake?" He walked away and Cheerio smiled at the guests and said, "He's emotional. He loved it. He loved the whole thing. Thank you for coming, everyone." Sha hadn't even had the chance to give him her gift, and now she was scared to. Maybe she had done too well in the planning? But, Stevie headed for his room and was reminded by Mario, "You're in the young adult wing now, Evans." He shook his head and turned around, hating the thought of having to pass by his makeshift friends to go to the other hallway, but not wanting to set off the alarm by going the shortcut.

Tesla and Chase had gone on to their usual table. Myron was sulking on the couch. Cheerio had handed out the remainder of the cupcakes and was gathering Stevie's abandoned gifts, including the one that she'd bought him, whenever he passed through. "I'm sorry," she told him. He paused. "I should have known you'd hate emotional surprises in front of other people. I just got really excited about making today a special day, with you having to move to another wing and this being a milestone birthday, but you're here. I should have asked you what you wanted today." She was about to cry and he sighed and went to give her a hug.

"It's not that," he said. "I just… You're my only friend here. Dani's gone. My sister is out there. Everyone else that I was close to now hates me,and Stacie stirred up a lot today - not on purpose, then Dani giving me something that shows me my old life, a life that I;m removed from, forever… I don't know. You tried, they tried. It was very nice and I should be happy, but I'm not. It just made me realize how alone I am, now. When the nicest things around me are done by strangers…"

"I'm a stranger?"

"No, not you…"

"Because, this was like 90% me and then 10% Tesla and Chase, and like 10% Dani, too. And also maybe like 40% Stacie. The point is, fuck math - this was mostly done by people that know you and care. I tried really hard for it to be nice…"

"I'm sorry. It was nice. Everything is nice." He covered his face. "Please, don't be upset," he said. "I can't help how I feel."

"Me neither, Cornflake," she said sadly, and handed him a gift basket. "Happy birthday," she said miserably, and kissed him on the cheek before leaving, with all the rest of his gifts gathered in her arms. She dropped it off at the nurses' station and went to her room.

Stevie pulled the little card from his gift basket and it read, "You have no idea how much I am going to miss you. Hopefully, we're able to make every memory count. Love, Your Cherie Amor aka Bust It Baby aka Vermillion Part 2 #SongsThatOughtToRemindYouOfMe Happy 'Housewarming,' Cornflake."

"Evans! Is this gonna be trash, or you picking it up?" Surette called out, gesturing the gifts that Cheerio left there. Stevie went to collect them, but couldn't quite get everything. Tesla and Chase rushed to assist him and help him carry it to his room, but quickly tried to leave him in peace.

"Sorry, y'all. Thanks for everything," he said. Chase just left, without replying. Tesla shrugged her shoulders and left, too. Stevie didn't like the way his new room felt. It was too much of a reminder of the changes that would keep happening in his life, which he couldn't control. He reached into his pocket for the baggie of meds that he had been saving and redistributing as he saw fit. He stared at a few of them for a bit, and for some reason, suddenly couldn't seem to remember which was which. He took these everyday, several times a day, and for different reasons, and for many years, several of these. However, right now, in his time of need, their identities eluded him. He couldn't ask them at the nurses' station… and admit that he had changed his pill rotation without permission? He tried to focus, but in the end just selected a couple and swallowed them down.

He put his gifts where he would be keeping them. His plushie on his pillow, the drawn portrait into the frame, the frame on top of the nightstand, and the yearbook in the drawer. He didn't know _when_ he would be ready to look at that, but _coffee shop?_ Dani hadn't told him that she got a job, yet! Must have been waiting until after this surprise. And this damn surprise was heavy! She spoke to his high school in Kentucky to order his yearbook? Maybe she got help with that? Even still - hell of a friendship move. Had he gotten out before her, he didn't know if he would have done this for her. He'd taken her for granted. He was taking Tesla for granted. Chase was fucking ROYALTY in the being taken for granted system. And now, Cheerio. He sighed and reached for her gift basket. There were little travel sized items of hygiene stuff (high quality, for sure), a flameless candle with a little note that said 'for whenever you're awake reading and writing to avoid the nightmares,' a set of customized notepads 'for whenever you wanna slide one under my door with a message that you can't wait to tell me about,' a copy of Sam's book 'because, it's a really good read and you shouldn't knock it because you're mad at him,' and then there were some items with a _Just Cheerio Things_ label on them: cotton candy lip balm - what she had on the first time they kissed - there was no note. She expected him to remember that. There was some kind of perfume in there, he sprayed it. It was the one that she was wearing the first time they fucked. He couldn't forget that scent. He had her cradled to himself the entire time and it was on his skin for hours afterwards. Even whenever she wore it around, he got a little chubby, every time he caught a whiff of it. He had one, now. Then, there was a compact mirror. He opened it and one side was a mirror, the other side had a photo of her. It had a note attached that read, 'for you to know that I aim to be a reflection of you. Yeah. It's that deep.'

He got up and set everything down, then went to try to find her. He was feeling kind of lightheaded and staggering a bit. Wrong pills, probably. "Evans, are you okay?" He heard Surette ask.

"Gotta go see Cheerio."

"She's in group, Evans. You can maybe speak to her when they get dismissed, right before lights out."

"I was mean and moody and I have to apologize."

"Write it down."

"I can't. My head is spinning," he said, clutching his head. "Wrong meds…"

"What do you mean, 'wrong meds?' Evans, did you take something you shouldn't have? Was it hidden in your gifts?"

"No! I had them in my pocket," he said, pulling out the baggy. "To make sure I took them when I needed them…"

"Okay, Evans, let's go to the nurses' station for a bit, okay?"

"Okay… Will you tell Cheerio I'm sorry?"

"Let's just see about if you haven't OD'd or something first, okay? We'll see about Cheerio later on." Stevie could hardly walk. Surette had to carry him on his shoulder.

"I'm in trouble, huh?" he wondered.

"We'll see if you're in danger, first. _Then,_ probably, yeah, Kid. You're likely in some trouble for pulling this shit."


	20. I Have to Say Before I Go

_A/N: So, I've been going through it. I never mind sharing that much. I'm old and have been living with untreated mental illness for a long time. I will eventually be fine enough to do day to day things; I always eventually am. I'm not positive what my living situation will be within the next few months. It's possible that I will be in between homes again, and if that's the case, once again; I won't be able to work on fanfiction._

 _In the meantime, I have been working on original stories, as it takes me different energy to write that than it does this. I have a fictionpress page (it works just like this site, because they're siblings, and I write under the name neshatriumphs. If anybody wants to try to keep up with what's there. The site doesn't let me share my P. account. It blocks out the word . But, I also will be keeping up with that one, under the same name._

 _NeshaTriumphs or UnshackledMonologues are the two titles or names I tend to use._

 **I Have to Say Before I Go**

Stevie woke up in his bed, with a pillow full of drool, a massive headache and an IV in his wrist. He sighed and reached for his glasses. Whenever he put them on, he barely had a chance to sit up before two orderlies, a nurse, and Dr. McIntosh entered the room. "Glad to have you back with us Mr. Evans," Dr. McIntosh claimed. "You gave the staff and all of your friends quite a scare."

"Did I almost die?" He asked.

"Thankfully, you didn't. But, we weren't able to confirm just what you took and had to induce vomit. That's why you have an IV, and why we must monitor your pill intake more closely from here on out. How are you feeling?"

"Can I see Cheerio?"

Dr. McIntosh looked at Surette, who clarified, "The girlfriend. Robinson kid."

"Ahhh. No. Right now, Mr. Evans, we're going to talk about what happened, monitor you accordingly, and escort you in the meantime." McIntosh said. "Now, I see in your files that you requested to continue sessions with Suzy. I want to try to assess whether or not that will be good for you, as this occurred with you in her care…" Stevie laid back down and took off his glasses. "Do you not feel like talking? How are you feeling? Sick?"

"And tired," Stevie said.

"I'll stay this time," Nurse Penny said.

"In the meantime, I don't want him speaking to anybody until I've had the chance to have this checkup. Especially not the girlfriend. Also, I want to talk to her."

Stevie rolled over as he said, "She can't help nothing. She doesn't know anything." But they didn't respond. Penny took a seat and the others left.

.

Cheerio wrote nervously in her notepad. _In trouble? They know nothing. Say not a thing._ "Hi, Miss Robinson, or I guess everyone calls you Cheerio. What do you prefer?"

"Obviously, Cheerio, since that's what everyone calls me. Hi, Dr. McIntosh."

"I wanted to talk to you about your friend, Steven. Has he been alright, lately?"

"No. He's never alright. That's why he's here."

"More than usual, or the same?"

Cheerio sat silently for a while, then wondered, "Why are you asking _me_ about this? Isn't it more appropriate to ask the resident in question?"

"I've spoken to him. He's withholding, withdrawn, even. I was hoping that as his friend, you would want to make sure that he gets the best possible care. I can't give it to him if he won't let me. So, I'm trying whatever I can to help him, and I'm hoping that you want to, as well."

She nodded her head, "I understand. Well, yes… It was different. He's been having mood swings. I tried to pretend that it was okay, that it was simply some stress and he would be fine. The night before his birthday, he was really sweet. He was perfect. He treated me like the man of my dreams. Then, whenever it was time for his birthday party, he just kept snapping at everyone, and he made me cry. I cried really hard, too. And, he never showed up to apologize. He always shows up to apologize. If not in the same night, then definitely by the next day. This time, he didn't. I didn't know if it was because he was too far gone into his… Whatever is happening… But, that's what I want to believe."

"Did you see him in line for his medication, when it was time?"

"Yeah. He never misses meds. He's pretty faithful about taking them and often reminds himself that the last time that he was off of them, he killed somebody. He didn't skip any meds, if that's what you're thinking…" McIntosh wrote something down. "What you writing?"

"Notes. And whenever his family visited, was it a good visit?"

"Only his sister visited, so it should have been a good visit, because she's the only one that he ever wants to see, but I think that they talked about something that he didn't like."

"Do family visits affect his mood swings at all?"

She laughed, "Oh yeah! He kinda hates them, but he can't tell them that. He tried to tell him that he didn't care for the visits over the holidays and everyone was so butthurt, he just ended up depressed and promised himself not to ever talk to them about his feelings again."

"So… His family has been having a negative impact on his progress… in your personal opinion?"

"They haven't had a positive one, in my personal opinion. But, I'm also just as crazy as the rest of these people in here, so…"

"Nobody in here is crazy. You all simply need various levels of help. Thank you for assisting me in helping Steven."

.

Stevie's cocktail was reorganized and his visitation privileges adjusted for proactive treatment, which basically meant that he was monitored diligently during medication time, checked to be sure that he hadn't saved or meddled with his own intake, and not allowed visitors until the doctor approved it. This was NOT acceptable for the rest of the Evans family, but they weren't given much choice in the matter, and when they came to the building, were not allowed to speak to Stevie, themselves.

Stacie rushed to the community center, aggravated and ready to fight. She stormed into the building and nearly tripped over Artie's chair. "No pressure… But there is a visible man, in a wheelchair right in front of you," Artie teased. She laughed at herself and for the first time today, got out of her mind a little bit.

"I am SO sorry, Mr. Abrams."

"You know what you should be sorry for? Calling me Mr. Abrams. Like… do I look like somebody's dad?"

"You literally look like someone's dad. Have you seen your sweaters?" She asked.

"OHHHHHHH!" Artie cheered, "OKAY! We're doing this? Because, Girl…"

"Please be gentle," she said, laughing.

"Honestly, I could never think of one shady thing to say about you. Just now, I was about to say, _I know you're not coming for me while you're standing there looking like peach sorbet on a hot summer day!"_

"Hey, hey! You need to insult me more often. I can live with this kinda negativity," she said, with a wink. They chatted for a few more minutes before Joe appeared with a birthday gift. "WHoa! What is that?" She wondered.

Joe smiled, and extended it to her, "The kids heard that you recently became a full grow- grown up and made you cards and crafts. Sorry that it's in a plastic punch bowl. That seemed "more fancy" to them than one of my recycled bags."

"Truth be told, we couldn't be bothered to go get a gift box. Out here raising everybody's kids," Artie joked. Stacie sniffled, sobbed, then wailed, at the surprise of both men, who simply stared in confusion at her response. Artie offered, "I was just playing. I mean, we really didn't have time, but we thought it would be okay."

"I don't think this is in response to her gift," Joe said quietly to Artie.

They were all seated at one of the crafts tables and she poured her entire heart out. "So, now - in addition to having possibly almost harmed him in some kind of negligent episode, I'm sure, considering what happened last time, now - they won't even let us see him, AND THIS TIME, because he's now a legal adult and one of their wards, THEY'RE responsible for him. The lawyer says that if we don't have any signs of abuse negligence or anything like that, it is up to them, because we're not paying for him to be there. He was ordered there by a judge. And the family is no longer technically responsible for him, because he's 18. Our entire system of care for mentally ill people needs to be challenged."

Joe nodded his head in understanding, "As someone who has spent the bulk of his career working with underprivileged children, I fully agree. In fact, most of our systems need to be challenged. Mental health resources are already hard to qualify in this country, and whenever you add poverty and criminal history…"

Artie sighed. He did not think much of Stevie Evans, at all. He'd only met him briefly before the big crime, but in his mind - that kid was the guy who kidnapped and tried to kill people he knew. Quinn and Artie weren't as close as they had been in high school, but she was a friend, and after that night, she completely ghosted, ran away to find herself, and spent most of her recovery and the trials for her father and his associates so far removed from her friends and loved ones that it was like a completely different Quinn returned. A surprisingly cold Quinn. He said surprisingly, because she always was a little hard, for as long as he had known her. But, this new strength made her constantly reevaluate herself. That could be a good thing, but the way that he saw it, when she left, she was judgmental, but kept everyone safe. When she came back, she was most judgmental towards herself and seemed to be trying to keep them safe from her trauma. That was nice and good and whatever, but he honestly felt like she kept them at arm's length because of what happened to her that night. All of her previous trauma had been shared with her friends and family and mutual foundations were built to support each other. She came back... Lonely. Sure, that wasn't Stevie's _fault._ But, Artie definitely associated him with that, if not - the PTSD from the night of the kidnapping and bomb threat was enough, as well.

Joe was comforting her, while Artie sat in silence, throwing in something to lighten the mood here and there, until finally deciding on, "Know what you should do? Crack open some of them birthday treats, huh? Don't tell nobody this, but I love laughing at kids drawings. Like… other people be like, _Awww how cute_ , but I be like, _This thing got three legs!"_

They all started laughing and Stacie wiped her face, "Mr. Abrams, you're so bad! You're the bad dad!"

"He's quite incorrigible," Joe playfully agreed.

After Stacie left, Artie commented, "She's legal, now."

Joe wrinkled his face and confirmed, "Earlier, when I said you were incorrigible, I was joking, but you really have no sense of shame or decency, do you?"

"I just meant… Everybody's been watching her crush on you for like… I mean… Probably not the whole time we've known her, but AT LEAST for the most part of her being a volunteer, here. Come on, Dude. There's no way you're about to convince me that your virgin eyes couldn't see that lovesick puppy dog aura."

"I am telling you that _if_ I had seen anything like that, she still would be… You know… A kid. We work with kids. Every single day. I counsel kids. We mentor them. Take care of them."

"Okay?"

"I can't believe that you see nothing wrong with diving head first into barely legal waters… Artie… You don't _look at_ any of our kids, do you?"

"WHAT? Hell no, Man! Gross. We work with younger kids. She was already like 16 when we met her, which is age of consent in Ohio."

"IF they are less than four years younger than you… She's six years younger than me."

"How do you know that, if you've never thought about it, huh?"

"Because, I surprisingly can do basic math on the spot. We know that she just turned 18 and I know how old I am. It's not a thing that I've ever thought about, and I'm extremely uncomfortable with this conversation."

"Because it'll give you ideas? Fear not. It is now legal to have ideas."

"You are being so gross."

"I'm being gross? How you know that I'm not suggesting treating a good Christian girl to a froyo? Why does it have to be something nasty?"

"I don't know. You tell me. Why would I fret taking a good Christian girl out for froyo? I do that every week with kids from my family's church! You were insinuating things!" They bickered for a while longer. Artie was honestly the only person that Joe bickered with this way. He was the only person to ever stir up these types of conversations. There used to be similar little squabbles with Puck, but after he was gone, Artie and Joe got even closer than before - and they were already like brothers.

If Artie was going through what Stevie was going through, Joe would put on a strong public face, but he would be _so hurt_ on the inside. He decided that he was going to do a better job of checking in with Stacie, to see how he was handling everything. Her earlier breakdown was a clear indication that she hadn't had the chance to properly sort through all of the thoughts and feelings that her brother's current experience was bringing to her. And she was a good kid. She could use some additional support, especially with Sam on the road, Dwight working a lot and Mercedes going through this new shift in lifestyle that Sam's career was making.

She had Tina and Santana, and the Pieces of Mercy ladies, but it was very much possible that they were so busy with their own lives that they maybe didn't particularly note what might be going on in poor Stacie's… "What are you thinking about, so hard?" Artie asked.

Joe shrugged his shoulders, "Being a decent human being."

.

Stevie's new meds schedule had him hyper. Medicinal changes were always weird for him for the first few weeks, but this was probably the best weird that he had gotten. The most boring time, or perhaps, his most anxious time of day, was group. In the young adult wing, group was generally like a lecture, instead of an open chat. It was going to take him a while to get used to that. He had spent the better part of a year (and some change) being encouraged to speak up more, and now he was encouraged to listen and talk only when it was "his turn."

His sex life went through some changes, too. For one thing, he was hornier than usual. The last meds he was on dampened his libido (which he was sure was purposeful, because of all of his sexually charged commentary in therapy). This particular cocktail addressed his recent bouts with the depression, but didn't make him as disinterested in sex. So, he was typically extremely sexual and though Cheerio seemed to want to talk about what happened and how he was feeling, for the most part, he just wanted to drown out his thoughts and feelings in sex. That was probably unhealthy, but he had enough to worry about, knowing that she would probably be gone soon. He already didn't get to see her as much, and whenever she made it to the common room, he had already been waiting on her to finish working out/training and shit for hours… everyday.

They'd make eye contact, wait for the orderlies to do their rounds, then sneak off to his room. _Sometimes,_ he needed for this to happen several times a day. He considered it another form of medication, and if he was gonna be fucked up for the rest of his life anyway, he might as well enjoy every moment of right now.

He pulled out. They didn't have much time to pretend not to be doing this, before an orderly passed by. "It's been a few weeks, now… Do you wanna talk about your graduation party?" She asked, putting her shirt back on.

"No," he said.

"Okay. Wanna talk about your mail?" _She found out that Stevie had gotten regular letters from several white supremacy outfits and he hadn't even so much as mentioned it to her - whether it was old friends, new enemies - she couldn't even say, because he hadn't said._

"No," he said, just as easily as the first time. He didn't seem annoyed or angry or really anything. He was pretty apathetic. Apathetic about things that she thought were important.

"Do you want to talk about what happened that night?" She wondered, her voice becoming harder to find and her courage dying with every breath.

"No." He was heading for the door, when she dared one more question.

"Do you care about me, Cornflake?" She held her breath in preparation for the next _No,_ since that seemed to be all that he could muster post coitus tonight; but he stopped, turned around and folded his arms.

"What do you think?" He asked.

"I think that something happened, and I don't know what, but whatever happened, you haven't looked at me the same, since."

"Do you want us to stop doing this?" he asked.

"What? How did we get to _that?_ Is that what YOU want?" Mario passed by and observed them, noticed that they didn't appear to be doing anything wrong, marked it on the spreadsheet and moved along.

Stevie finally said, "Obviously, I don't. But all of this interrogation is kinda making me want to, to be honest."

"Okay. So, what… We just meet up, fuck, never talk to each other and do that over and over again until I'm gone from here?" She asked.

"Doesn't that sound better than us continually pretending like this is going some place and becoming closer friends?"

"No! No, it doesn't sound better! It sounds… Lonely. It _feels_ lonely. I've never wanted anybody the way that I want you. I've never cared for anybody the way that I care for you. And… I've never been lonelier. I spent almost 15 years in a mansion with two affectionately challenged perfectionists, but most of the pressure to be something that I'm not has come from you."

Stevie's eyes welled with tears. "I'm worst than your parents? That is… very hurtful. I'll… leave you alone. If you're gonna feel lonely, you might as well _be_ lonely." He left the room and she sat on the bed and cried. Why? What was he doing this to her? Why was he _always_ doing this to her? She curled up in a ball and fell to sleep, crying. She didn't wake up until she felt someone touching her hair. She jumped up and held her hand over her heart. It was Stevie. "You fell asleep," he said.

"Sorry. I'll go." She climbed out of bed and started to leave, but he caught her hand and pulled her into a hug, holding on tightly to her and crying in her arms. "Stevie…"

"I'm sorry. Please, don't listen to me when I say things like that. If I tell you to go, or that I don't want you or don't need you… That's not me speaking. That's… another me. That's the me that killed somebody. That's the me that does things that there are no explanations for." He was shivering, "Please, please… don't leave me."

"Will you talk to me? Be my friend? Will you treat me like I'm worth what you're suggesting that I am?"

"Yes. Please."

"Okay." She kissed him on the forehead and said, "Tomorrow, we _talk._ About everything." He nodded his head, desperate to say and do whatever it took to keep her. "Okay," she confirmed and kissed him again.

Whenever she walked out of the room, she saw Bukowski outside of Tesla's door, seemingly _arguing_ with her. He was fussing, quietly and she was clearly upset. Cheerio wondered, "How ya livin,' Tess?" Tesla turned to see her and looked terrified. "Do… You need help with something?"

"Go to your room, before I ban you from this wing," Bukoski said. It was the most harshly that he had ever spoken to her. Even when he threatened her, he wasn't so coarse. It scared her, and even though she was worried about Tesla, she left. Tesla desperately looked at her, watched her go and sniffled. She put her head down and Bukowski raised it with his finger, "Hey… You're still my girl, right?"

"This is wrong," she whispered.

"Maybe. But… The guy has a hold on me, okay? I can't escape him, now." Huge tears dropped from her face to the floor. "I shouldn't have gone to him, I know. But, I did it for you. I did it for us. I didn't want something like that out there. I thought it would help you for _us_ to have it." She wiped her face. "Robinson will be fine. What do you think he's gonna do? Come out of hiding to attack this place and take her just to hurt Evans?" She backed away and retired into her room. "This is for the best, Allie-Ann."

She slid a slip of paper beneath the door and he picked it up. _My name is Tesla._ He wadded it up and left her door.

Moments later, she opened her door and went to slide a slip of paper underneath Stevie's door, before retreating back to her own room. Stevie opened the door and looked out, but nobody was there. He opened the note. _You can only trust Cheerio. Be safe._ He frowned. He knew Cheerio's handwriting, and this wasn't it. Besides, she wasn't the pranking type and she was also gone to group sessions. He set it on the nightstand to ask her about it tomorrow.

.

The talk never happened. The next day, whenever he went to the pill line for his meds, Cheerio was in the common room… with Dani and Myron. He wanted to get out of line and go rush over there, but then he'd just have to get back in line and miss whatever would happen, then. So, he waited, took his meds, had them check and recheck that he had actually swallowed and didn't have anything hidden on his person, then rushed into the common room. "Dani!" He cheered. She looked up, and even though her hair was shorter, cut unevenly and now bright red, instead of brown, she looked like same old Dani, just a little worn for the weather.

"Whoa. Hi there, Stranger." He shoved himself between her and Cheerio, and Cheerio frowned, got up and headed for breakfast, with Myron hesitantly following behind her. Of course, they wanted to chat with their friend, but they knew that Stevie had less friends than they did and this was the first time in weeks that he seemed cheerful or excited about anything. Cheerio told herself not to be hurt by that fact, but she didn't listen to herself. Why would she? She was a "crazy person." "That is not gonna go over well," Dani told Stevie.

"They'll be fine. What are you doing here?" He asked. "I thought that they wouldn't let you come visit!"

"Yeah, and even if they did… Do you think I'd be visiting at breakfast time, some random day?"

"Wait… You're… _back?_ What happened? How?"

"There was a problem with my ride, so I didn't make it to my appointment in time enough to get my meds. Whenever I got there, I had to wait, then reschedule. I was early for my next appointment, but I ran out in between the time it took to get the reschedule. So, I was only about a day off on taking them, but I felt like a totally different person and…"

"You didn't want to enlist under their control again."

"I tried to rationalize it. But, once I was off of them, I just couldn't. I _couldn't_ put them into my body. By the time the effects of snatching that chemical dependency away showed themselves, somebody was calling the cops on me. I spent the night in jail, I missed a shift at work. I tried to explain to my boss what happened, and she said that maybe I should see about coming back here and trying to get myself together before actually coming back to work."

"So… You voluntarily came back here?"

"Hell no. I ignored her and came to work, anyway. She explained to me that maybe she wasn't clear - that I didn't _have_ a job anymore and if I didn't leave, she would call the police on me. I didn't want to cause a scene and I had just spent a night in jail and had a court case impending about my public meltdown. So, I tried to very calmly explain to her that with my current problem and my history that would be basically killing me. Well, I was like too excited in my version of calmly speaking and a work buddy called this place, scared that if they didn't, she'd call the cops and I'd just wind up back in jail. Dr. Pepper came down and spoke to the police who _were_ on the scene, and I was in cuffs and crying and shit. She gave me a chance to explain myself to her, then explained it to them vouching for me, but the cops were all like - either you take her, or we'll have to. We haven't even discussed the official whatever it is. I think she's gotta discuss it with the young adult doctor and the director. She says that I might be out in 72 hours, if she can help it, but where am I even gonna go? Back to the halfway house? After I had an episode? To a different one? There's only like 3 and one of them is church related and you _know_ how they can be with lgbt tenants."

"I don't, but…"

"They try to make you sign on for their beliefs instead of helping you. They think their mindset _is_ the help." She shook her head, "I had to be in a place like that, in the beginning. Whenever I first lost it. Really, I hadn't lost it yet. I was just trying to find out who I was and my family was not into that, so they sent me to this place that was going to traumatize the gay out of me, I guess… I didn't have any mental health issues before that place." A tear fell from her eye and Stevie wrapped an arm around her and kissed her on the side of the head. "My family broke me, Stevie. That place broke me, and no matter what I do to try to get better, I keep on ending up in places like this."

"Why didn't you tell me that you were having a tough time?" he asked.

"I mean, the mail takes like a week to come in. I didn't have time, even if it _would have_ occured to me to bother your recovery with my mess."

"I meant on the messages app," he said.

She wrinkled her face, laughed and asked, "Is this some new code we're speaking in because I don't get it."

"The messages! Like we send each other through our accounts," he clarified.

"I have never had any account of any sort in my life. Cheerio was right. The new drugs have you gone."

Stevie pulled away from her and stared at her to see if she was joking. Maybe it was like he initially thought - that she was so messed up that she didn't know _what_ she was doing sometimes. This could easily be fixed though. He had access to the computer until the end of the school year. "Let's look at something," he told her and brought her to the computer. She followed him and he logged on, went to their messages and showed them to her. "This doesn't look familiar to you?"

"It's _not_ familiar to me. I don't have a computer. That isn't me," she chuckled. She tried to scroll up, but wasn't even sure how it worked. "How do I get to the top?" she wondered. He gave her a look. "I have never had a computer! I used them at school a few times. Most of my school work has been out of textbooks!" He scrolled up and she shook her head, "Yeah, this is somebody else, playing like me."

"That's not possible," He said.

"How you gonna tell me? It IS possible. You just showed me this to prove that it was me and I'M telling you that it isn't!"

"Yeah, but… Maybe you're sick and don't remember?"

"What? I don't hallucinate or lose time, Stevie. As a matter of fact… One of us _does,_ but it isn't me."

"Wow."

"I'm sorry, Man. But, you're trying to make me out to have symptoms that I don't have because somebody tricked you on the computer. I don't know what else to tell you if you can't just take my word and believe that it wasn't me." She shook her head, "I'm sorry that it happened. I hope they haven't said or done anything to embarrass me."

"No, but I have poured my heart out to this person. This person knows every single thing that I would have shared with you, if you had been here… for months, Dani!"

She nodded. "That's super unsettling. I'm so sorry. I wish I could help. Can I read this conversation, to just… Get all that information into _my_ head. I've been wondering how you've been." She smiled, sadly. "I wanted to reach out, but I didn't know what to say…"

"But… they told me about the pissing incident! They KNEW things! They knew about conversations that we've had and they knew about inside jokes that we use!"

"Then… They were here with us. I would say that it's somebody that you crossed in here that's now out there, but… That could be literally anybody." He glared at her. "You cross everybody! Myron told me this morning that you hated Derek. Derek? Everybody loved Derek, and you even crossed him."

"Do you think it was him?" He asked. "No, that doesn't make sense. He was in here in at least part of the time that I was speaking to this catfish… Maybe it's somebody's friend on the outside. I got a note last night…" He pulled it from his pocket and showed it to her, interrupting her bringing herself up to speed through the messages. "I thought maybe it was a prank, but maybe it was because somebody here knows that somebody is out to get me."

"Okay, but this note would indicate that nobody can be trusted, so I would include whoever wrote it," She said, and continued to read. "That's really bizarre timing, though. That somebody would give you that on the night that I came back, then you'd find out that there was a fake me on the internet talking to you. Like… You think that they're talking about me? You think that they're trying to make you not trust me? Maybe it was whoever is responsible for fake me!" She said. "We need to work on a horror movie script about this. And we gotta make it snappy if I'm gonna be out of here in 72 hours. OOOOOO - The movie can be called _72 Hours._ Two psychiatric patients' friendships are tested in this thrilling tale of who done it? But, can they determine between what is real and what is in their minds?"

"You need to work on that fucking tagline," Stevie said.

"Was trying to lighten things up."

"I know."

"Did I?"

"No… Who the fuck has been fucking with me? I honestly never trust anybody, and now, I know that somebody can just PRETEND to be you… for what? What did they wanna know? What have they learned?"

"All I'm seeing is a bunch of juvenile shit, some delinquency, but in a regular teenage shenanigans kind of way…" She turned around in the chair and wondered, "Have you been taking care of her?"

He sighed and pulled another chair next to her, "Not lately. I'm so scared. I don't even know of what. I guess I'm scared that I'm gonna just continue to ruin her more and more. She'll look at herself one day and wonder, how did she let herself fall so deeply into descent?"

"Or, you can be good to her. Why is this a constant struggle for you?"

"Obviously the being good _to her_ isn't the struggle so much as the _being good_ is."

"You've been good to me," Dani said and turned to the computer again. "What happened to my picture?" She wondered. He looked on. "What happened to the messages?"

"Ugh… They must have deactivated the account or blocked me or something."

"Are…" she looked around suspiciously, "Are they watching us right now? This honestly just did become a horror story…" They both looked around and she commented. "The only person who seems to be watching us it Mute Scoot Boogie." Stevie furrowed his eyebrows. _Who the hell is Mute Scoot…_ He turned suddenly and looked at Tesla. She quickly buried her face in her sketchbook. He got up and Dani commented, "Surely you can't think it's Mute Scoot Boogie…"

But Stevie snatched her sketchbook, slammed the note on the table and asked, "Did you give this to me?" Her eyes widened and she snatched the note and shook her head, glancing at Bukowski, when she did. He was on his phone and didn't seem to notice the situation… or he was ignoring her because he was still angry about last night. Stevie flipped through pages in the sketch book and Dani said, "Hey… Maybe calm down. She's harmless and never causes any trouble…"

"Yeah, but her boyfriend sure does, sick fuck!" He ripped a page from the book slammed it down and tried to get the note sent to him to compare the handwriting. By this time, the situation was noticeable and became even more of a spectacle when Tesla began to let out this loud continuous groan sound as she tried to keep the note tucked away on her person. Bukoski was heading over to the commotion when Chase shoved Stevie over the table and cupped Tesla's face, "You okay? Did he hurt you?" he wondered. She shook her head and gave him a hug.

Bukowski finally reached them as Tesla slid the note into Chase's hand and whispered, "Hide it." He shoved it into his pocket and stood up straight, while Dani pulled Stevie, to keep him from charging at Chase.

"What. The. Fuck. Evans?" Bukowski asked. A few other orderlies were coming over, too.

"She's up to something. I don't know what. I don't know if she's working for you. I don't know what's happening, but she definitely wrote that note! It's in HER handwriting, and that's why she didn't want me to take it from her!"

"There is no note!" Chase said. "He's a bomb waiting to go off, and now he attacks the most defenseless person in the building!"

Bukowski asked, "Allie-Ann, can you empty your pockets for me?" She did so and shrugged her shoulders. "What note, Evans?"

"It was a threat or something." She shook her head, looking desperately at him. It was a warning, why couldn't he see that?

"She never would threaten anybody. Bukowski, you know her better than I do. You know that this is another one of Stevie's outrageous behavioral problems!" Chase defended.

"Calm down, Chase. Take Allie-Ann back to the rooms, and I'll handle all of this. I'll get the sketchbooks back to you. You two just go, chill out a moment." Chase took her hand and led her away, glaring at Stevie, as he did. Bukowski turned to Stevie, "Tell me your side, again… Calmly."

"Somebody catfished me as Dani when she was out. Somebody warned me not to trust anybody, just last night, with a note. You're the only person that even… that would even, and you know how she is with you!" He said. The other orderlies looked unbothered. Typical Stevie Evans shit… He folded his arms, hugged himself and shook his head, "I'm sorry, I don't know what got into me. I don't know why I attacked her," he said.

Surrette said, "Great! Let's get you in your room for a little bit." He took his arm and led him away.

Dani and Bukowski looked at each other. She was glaring at him. He simply turned to Mario and said, "I'm not supposed to be around this one. She's violent, so careful." Dani held her hands up and calmly walked off. She didn't need an escort. Bukowski began going through Tesla's books to see if he saw a note stashed someplace. If she was trying to warn Stevie about something, that was going to really piss him off. He had been as patient with her as he could be, knowing that his obtaining her record from Giardi was troubling to her and that she had been conflicted about their relationship for a little while, now. But… the last thing that he needed was her turning on him after he had trusted her with damaging information about himself. He didn't find anything. He went to her room, where she and Chase were seated at her little table. "Chase, do _you_ have anything in your pocket?" He wondered. Chase shook his head and pulled his pockets inside out. Bukowski smiled, "Can you leave us?" Chase looked at Tesla, worried, but she took a deep breath and nodded her head. Bukowski narrowed his eyes at the exchange.

When Chase was gone, he wondered, "Are you trying to move on with him?" She shook her head. "Good. He's a good guy and I like him, but surely you know that I would never let that happen?" She nodded her head. "Are you turning on me? Did you send Evans anything?" She shook her head again, but she had tears in her eyes and he just knew that she was lying. "Good. I'll just review the hallway cams and confirm that, then we can go back to normal, yeah?" She clenched the table and nodded her head, again. "Really? You're gonna make me review the camera and see you, and prove that you're lying to me." She shrugged her shoulders. "If you're not on my side… You know that I can't be on yours, right?" He sat down and chuckled, "What is your plan? You what - sign yourself out, and go find a new life? You'd have to start at your grandmother's house, and I know where she lives. You would have to be willing to open up your mouth and make your claims against me, and I think we both know that you're not ready for that. You would need to try to get authorities involved, and I would never visibly break the law. You'd just look like a crazy black bitch that demonizes every ginger that she sees because of an unfortunate event that everyone will know about, because believe me, the moment that you open your mouth and try to say one thing against me, that video will be on every site that allows me to upload it." She covered her face and started crying. "I'm not gonna check the footage. I know you lied to me. I'm gonna just hope that you love me enough to turn from this self destructive path that you're on." He leaned forward, kissed her on the forehead and asked in a low, threatening voice, "Are you my girl, Allie-Ann?" She nodded her head. "Good." He smiled, gave her another quick kiss and left the room.

"What the fuck did you do?" Surette asked him when he came out of the room.

Bukowski shook his head, "I think I really fucked up, Man. I need your help. She's out of my control. I don't know what she'll spill about."

Surette looked annoyed and suggested, "Let's go chat, in private."


	21. I Just Want You To Know

**I Just Want You To Know**

Surette and Bukowski discussed their upcoming plans, while Chase and Tesla made sure that the other wasn't unattended, as much as possible. Chase had literally eaten that piece of paper to make sure that nobody read it, but afterwards, insisted that Tesla tell him what she was in the middle of. He tried to convince her to leave the home and promised that he would make sure that she landed safely somewhere, but when she couldn't convince him to come with her, she couldn't imagine being brave enough to dare leaving.

Cheerio backed off from the conversation that she and Stevie needed to have, for the moment. Something was happening with Stevie and she rationalized that it couldn't hurt to simply let him enjoy his time with Dani, because truthfully, she would probably be gone in a few days, She seemed just fine. All of the stuff that happened was circumstantial. But, there was something happening with Tesla, Stevie, Chase, Dani, Bukowski and Surette. She didn't know what it was, but there had apparently been a nonviolent incident and now, the tension in the air was thick to anybody who was cognizant enough to notice.

Stevie couldn't get over the ruse by whoever (presumably Bukowski) had infiltrated his life for months! He deleted his accounts, much to Stacie's displeasure and worry - She showed up at the institution with that dreadlocked headed weirdo and insisted that they let her see her brother, or that she would call the police. Whenever the nurses told her that THEY were the ones within their rights to call the police, Dreads tried to talk everyone down, and Stevie came up at that time, looking confused. "What's all this?" He wondered.

Stacie let out a loud gasp and rushed to hug him, as the nurse said that the director was on his way to the nurses' station. "What happened? First, we're told that we can't visit, then all of your social media gets deleted? What happened?" She wondered.

Stevie shook his head, "Long story. I'm not supposed to be doing that, anyway. I'm gonna do my best to play by the rules. It's dangerous out there," he said. He looked at Joe and wondered, "What's going on here? Is this your boyfriend?" he asked.

"Don't be silly!" She quickly said, almost as quickly as she did turn red. She noticed the quick smirk on Stevie's face. That _Aha!_ That _Gotcha!_ That little something that he had been waiting for since the first moment that she put him on blast about Cheerio.

"So, just a hopeless crush, then? Gotta tell you, I don't see the appeal," Stevie taunted.

Joe extended his hand to Stevie and turned that reluctant handshake into a hug that Stevie _definitely_ didn't approve of or return. "I'm Joe Hart, the head youth counselor at the Kid Connection Community Center, and dear friend of Sam's and Stace Face…" Stevie jerked his hand away and narrowed his eyes. "I took a day to drive her out here. She's not a great driver on a good day…"

"OH!" She swatted him playfully on the arm. "He's a friend," she told Stevie, "But, that's not the point. What's going on here?"

"We asked the family to respect his current path of treatment, and at this point, Ms. Evans, it seems as if we have to take extra measure to get you to do that," Director Harris said as he appeared.  
"She didn't mean to," Stevie said. "And she's leaving, now." Stacie nodded her head and apologized.

Director Harris asked, "Can I escort you to my office, Ms. Evans?" Stevie worried that she might lose her privileges forever, or accidentally rat him out, or something, but he also knew that he had no control over that, over any of it. "Mr. Evans, you can visit with Ms. Evans' friend while we finally resolve this visitation matter."

Stevie frowned, "I don't want to visit with this ridiculous looking dude…" He muttered. Joe just smiled at the ground and decided to not bother Stevie, but stayed there, in case he _did_ want to say something. After a moment, he said, "So, you talk to fucked up kids."

Joe laughed, "Oh, no. I don't believe those exist. I believe that some children are traumatized by things that are done to them or things that they have witnessed. I try my best to help them to deal with that. But, they aren't the only kids that I counsel. I spend a lot of time with underprivileged, differently abled, socially awkward… a various range of diverse children who just want and need somebody that they can talk to. I'm qualified to talk to adults, too. I just prefer children. If we can help them while they're still growing, we won't need as many places like this for them when they're already grown."

"Places like this? Holding centers?" Stevie replied.

Joe tilted his head, "Is there something wrong with this place that others need to know?"

"It should be shut down, but I'm just a crazy person, so that don't matter."

"I don't believe in those either," Joe admitted. "I believe that everyone has the possibility to break, but not all of us are burdened with the opportunity to break. If what happened to you had happened to anyone else, their chances of breaking would be extremely high. But, people aren't often forced to face such life altering events, and I find that it's much too easy for people who have never been burdened with the opportunity to break to boast about how together they are… and between them and God - we all know that they probably aren't even as together as they try to make it seem."

"Why are you talking to me?" Stevie wondered, and finally walked off. Joe simply smiled politely, but remained where he was until Stacie got back.

.

Dani, Dr. Pepper, Dr. McIntosh, Dr. Campion and Director Harris had a meeting. Suzy decided that Dani should tell her story to everyone and allow them to ask her anything that might concern them, so that they could all she that she was functional enough to go back out into the world, that it was simple a misunderstanding that landed her back here. Perhaps, if she was convincing enough, they would help her to get a job on the outside.

They made arrangements to place her in the halfway house, for her to have a surefire way to get her meds in time enough as to not run out again, and to make it to any appointments for a check in that she would have to schedule. In the meantime, being here a few days _would_ assist her in getting her footing again.

She wasn't going to be able to return to the coffee shop for work, but Stevie convinced her that Mercedes hired "all kinda messed up people" at her place of business, until she could land on something stable.

On her last night there, Cheerio came into the common room while Dani and Stevie were hanging out on their couch and laughing together. They got quieter when she came in and her default was jealous rage, but she simply forced a smile and went to the couch in front of the TV, where surprisingly, Tesla was. "Hey, you watching this?" she wondered. Tesla turned to her like she hadn't even noticed her arrive or sit down, shook her head and returned her attention to staring out into space. Cheerio picked up the remote control as Chase and Myron joined them on that couch and Stevie and Dani didn't.

"Oh my God, was that Brody?" Myron practically squealed. Cheerio flipped back until they reached the channel in question and the answer was yes. Yes, it was Brody, and… She squealed and dropped the remote, covering her mouth with a hand and immediately started crying uncontrollably.

"What's wrong Cheerio?" Chase wondered.

"That's her mom," Myron said and rubbed Cheerio's knee. She shushed them to hear what was happening on this talk show.

Stevie and Dani joined them now, seeing her start crying and being concerned and interested…

Rhadja was glowing. She looked like she hadn't aged a single day in the nearly two years that Cheri hadn't seen her, and she seemed genuinely excited about this venture that she was speaking of. "And we all know that I would _never_ attach my name to a product that I didn't believe in. We have a catalog of exquisite beauty and wellness products, as well as a number of services provided that would be included if you had Brody as a personal trainer."

"What she means is like I have an exercise calendar, and coinciding products for it, such as an instructional that I created, and any of the exercise products, nutrition plans and any supplements, vitamins, muscle aids - basically… anything that I would need in order to personally train someone is now available for people to order. We strongly suggest having a personal trainer to work through with, but that's not affordable for everyone."

"What's your favorite product, Rhadja?" the host asked.

"Radja? Oh shit! Babe, that's your mom!" Stevie announced, more to himself as she now recognized her, and pushed himself between her and Tesla to put an arm around her, because she was not holding herself together very well.

"There are so many of the Robinswest products that I currently live by - the cucumber products are all glorious, but I drink a cucumber coconut water every single day, the radiance sheen - which is a dry oil mist for the hair and skin, the Korean skin care bundle, and the cheer vitamins."

Brody commented, "We brought samples for the audience." There were multiple cheers.

Then the host asked, "And how exactly did the two of you come to meet and get together on this sure to be huge successful plan?"

Cheerio held her breath, noticed the slight flutter of her mother's eyelids as she flinched just a little at the very _thought_ of her, then listened to her response. "Well, after Brody had his wake up call, a while back - he was near my family home and reached out to me about an idea that he had. He had thought it all out, as far as his vision and mission, and he honestly just needed someone to believe in that and take a chance on him, and I tested several products and listened to his goals, and I was on board. I was as excited to invest in this as he was to create it."

"So, he just reached out to you via an agent or showed up at your company, or…?"

Rhadja cleared her throat and smirked, "He is a persistent young man. He was willing to basically reach out to any little person who he thought might be able to send word to me. I think he tried for months before he sent me an urgent message and I listened to what he had to say and I haven't looked back."

"That bitch," Stevie muttered and squeezed Cheerio's shoulder. Everyone seemed to be looking at her stare sadly at the TV. "I'm sorry, Baby… You okay?"

"I'm… Not surprised. If I had to bet, I'd say that Brody got her attention by telling her that he was in here _with me,_ something that people don't know. They probably think I'm at some kind of physical rehab center in another country or something. She didn't want him to tell people that they stuck me here and she threw every penny into his business that he could possibly need." She threw her head down into her arms, laying on her knees to cover up her crying.

"Turn it off," Stevie said, to nobody in particular, but everybody but Tesla scrambled to do so. Myron turned on a music channel.

Cheerio got up and Stevie followed. "No, it's your last night with Dani. I don't wanna interrupt. Who knows when you'll see her again?" Stevie rubbed her elbows with the back of his fingertips, not wanting to tell her that he was worried about her, but not wanting to leave her alone, either. "I've come too far to try to kill myself. I promise, I'll be fine. I actually would prefer to be alone," she lied.

"You _never_ prefer being alone. I call bullshit."

"Well, I call goodnight. See you tomorrow, after Dani leaves." She dragged ass down the youth hallway, sniffling, but when she got into her room, she wailed loudly, for several minutes, then she got up and wrote her mother a letter.

 _Rhadja,_

 _I just saw you and Brody on TV. I got your message, loud and clear. It's finally sank in. I'm sorry to have bothered you all of this time. I never will again. If I am released, you won't need to worry about me showing up and making any trouble for you. This little person has had her last desperate cry for your attention and your love. Tell Champ I said goodbye._

 _Cheri Charming_

.

Dani hugged Cheerio when she saw her at breakfast. "I wish that we'd had more time to talk."

"You and Cornflake were busy doing that. Besides, I'll still have the same address. Keep in touch." She spent the rest of the meal in silence, just listening to the others chat. Whenever they were wishing Dani goodbye at the door, and she was getting ready to be brought to her next home by Dr. Pepper, the hallway alarm went off. They didn't think much of it, because they were too busy hugging and promising to try to do better at keeping in touch.

But, after the car drove away, and they were heading back in, everyone heard a loud, shrill scream and several of the nurses rushed in that direction. Cheerio moved to do so too, but Myron and Stevie both grabbed her, "What are _you_ doing?" Stevie asked.

"Trying to be nosy!" she said, chuckling. "Shoot, I deserve some action after the night that I had…" She gasped and pointed.

Whenever Stevie and Myron turned, they saw Bukowski handling Tesla, who was covered in blood, and Chase, who appeared to be in shock. They carried Surette out on a gurney, with holes in his neck. "What the fuck happened?" Stevie heard himself wonder.

"I'll bet he went after Tesla, and she had to defend herself," Cheerio said.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Myron wondered.

She'd completely forgotten that Myron didn't know about all the shit with the orderlies and… wait… Why was Bukowski handling Chase and Tesla? "This is bad. Are we next?"

"I'll talk to Bukowski as soon as I can," Stevie assured her.

"What is going on?" Myron asked.

"You should… not worry about it. Honestly. You're here by choice, Kid. Just mind your fucking business."

.

Tesla felt like she was drowning in slow motion, for several days. Her mind barely worked. She had been wondering if she was safe and whenever she wound up in that corridor with Brett, Surette and Chase, she knew that she wasn't. Scratch that, she had wound up in the corridor with Surette. He was going to try to prick her. She saw the syringe in his hand. She had already known his favorite threat, and whenever she saw it in his hands, he made the mistake of expressing himself. "You are a really nice young lady and you shouldn't have had to go through the shit that you've had to go through, but you've become such a liability and I'm not gonna go to prison. I worked at the prison, and I'm not spending one day inside of there. Find yourself a happy place." He came forward and she took the drawing pen that she had tucked into the spiral of her sketch book and stuck him in the neck with it.

Neither of them was expecting that. In fact, whenever he reached for the hole in his neck, he dropped the syringe and she picked it up, because she knew she'd need proof of what he had tried to do to her… Chase came through the door and froze in shock. Bukowski was close behind. "Allie-Ann…"

"You tried to kill me," she accused, the clearest, most understandable thing that she had said in years.

"No, Baby… No!" He came closer and she held the syringe out towards him. "Listen… If Bobby tried to kill you, I promise - I had nothing to do with it. Please, give that to me. I would never hurt you. You know that." She hesitated for a moment and he quickly snatched it from her hand, prompting her to scream, loudly. "Check on her, Chase," he said, as he checked to see if Bobby was alright. He seemed okay, so Brett put the syringe in his hand and injected him with it. The nurses arrived and he stood up and told them, "What I've gathered is that he came at her with this syringe and she defended herself. I think he accidentally stuck himself in the process…"

"Get the residents out of here," they told him and he nodded and did so.

"We're on the same team, right?" He whispered. "We're all friends, here?" Tesla and Chase nodded, and he took them to the nurses station to get something to help them calm down, then to their rooms, to let them get cleaned up. "It was all Bobby, got it?" They nodded.

"Bukowski! What in God's name happened?" Dr. McIntosh asked him.

"Well, Sir - I got there after Bobby was down, so we'll have to check the cameras."

"Somebody turned them off!" He fussed.

Bukowski feigned tears, "It must've been him. Look, Allie-Ann thought he was trying to kill her and she defended herself. Now, I don't know what was in that needle that he tried to stick her with, but I also don't know why he'd be sticking her. She's one of the most peaceful residents that we have." He leaned forward and said, "She's been acting weird around him lately. Nervous, afraid. I think… He may have been abusing her or something. I think… That she should probably be looked at, tested."

"Do you know how terrible it would be for us, if that is the case?" McIntosh asked.

"Sorry…"

And now, she had to undergo an examination of her lady parts. She didn't like those, and these days had been hectic enough. Whenever they found signs of sexual intercourse and questioned her, she didn't speak. However, when asked if Surette had done this to her, she did nod her head, not feeling so much guilty about lying on him as she was frightened at whatever was next. What would happen? What could happen? She was ready to leave the place, now. But, now, she couldn't. They were investigating Surette's _death._ Brett had _killed_ him with whatever it was that Surette was going to kill her with.

She was monitored closely, Brett took anything self-incriminating from her room, and she was no longer allowed her art supplies, despite the fact that everyone was positive that her stabbing Surette was self defense. Chase was at her side every possible moment, though they hardly left her room, now. She felt… Like many of her old wounds had been reopened, but they hurt differently, now.

 _She thought about how attractive she found Kyle Giardi. He was kind of obnoxious, but he was sweet to her, whenever she saw him. She had been working after school at the country club, saving up for art school. He and his brothers sometimes came through the place with their aunt Terri and their mom - and most of the other kids there treated them like they didn't belong, so she felt bad for them. Then, one night, she left work, ready to grab some things for her grandmother before going home and she was grabbed, and wrestled to the ground. She fought with all of her might, spilling everything in her bags all over the ground outside of her sister's car. He turned her over and smiled at her… It was Kyle. She struggled away from him and ran. She heard these weird sounds… Like wild random animal noises from a few different directions and new that it was he and probably his brothers, but she didn't know if there were more of them._

 _Her cellphone had been dropped, and she was trying to get back to the country club, but she was taken into a headlock, dragged to a truck, thrown into the back of it, and though she tried to flee several times, she felt her body being bent backwards as she was bound, then a needle in her neck. She woke up, strapped up to a tree._

 _She didn't even know how many days of torture she endured being strung up, taken down, hidden, hung, buried, at one point… But, she knew that they were probably going to kill her and that was what she was looking forward to. When they didn't she felt cheated. That was the cruelest portion of every horrible thing that had been done to her. The next cruelest thing was that before they left her there - to whatever would happen… Kyle looked her right in the eyes, gave her a smile just as gentle as the first that he had ever given her, and kissed her on the lips, like a lover. "Please kill me," the last thing that she had said, before she lost the nerve to speak._

What was currently happening was just as heavy. She felt like she couldn't scream for help. Like, she was sneak attacked and couldn't trust people, but then again… Brett had killed his friend for her… Maybe he _didn't_ know about what he was gonna try to do, or maybe he was covering his tracks. She couldn't tell and not knowing made her confused and tired. But, at least she had Chase. "Take care of her for me," she heard Brett tell him. He was keeping a distance from her. She wasn't sure if he was letting go of her, or waiting until she had enough space to come back to him. For the moment, she just needed some healing.

.

"Bukowski…" Stevie said. "Are… we in trouble, right now?" he wondered.

Bukowski sighed, rolled his eyes and honestly admitted, "I don't give a shit what's happening with you right now, Evans. I have to bury my best friend, and have probably lost the woman that I love forever. Do whatever the fuck you want." He waved a hand and walked passed Stevie.

Stevie wondered if that ultimately meant that he and Cheerio were free from Bukowski forever, but at any rate, he felt lighter, better. He felt… okay. He rushed to her and shrugged his shoulders, "I think we're alright," he told her.

"Poor Tesla, she seemed so messed up," Cheerio told him.

"Yeah… Having to kill somebody isn't something that somebody so soft and nice should have to do."

"Having to kill somebody isn't something that anybody should have to do."

"Yeah, but sometimes, it can't be helped. If she wouldn't have done it, he'd have killed her. Now, I don't know what she has to live for, but it's surely her choice to live for it, whatever it is."

"I don't know what I have to live for, either - but if I was being targeted, I'd hope that I'd try to defend myself."

"You don't know what you have to live for?" he repeated, a little bit hurt.

"I mean… I just officially declared myself done with trying to get my parents to love me. You and me will not only be apart soon, but… We've been drifting for weeks." Tears welled in her eyes. "You're…" she stared at him and he looked desperate for her to say something positive. She lost her train of thought and he leaned in and kissed her. He laid her onto the bed, he touched her, he undressed her, she didn't get too excited. They had been having sex. It was the connection that had been missing, and then the talk she demanded that they needed had been overlooked, and now, here they were, just doing it again, as if that was the answer to every possible problem in the world. Sure, it felt like that when he was inside of her. It felt like roses, spring, rain, whatever else pretty imagery of nature and wholeness that the mind could bring about. But, that was done in 30 minute spurts and these days, without any fanfare. So whenever she was licking his neck, holding him close, doing their thing and he lost control and uttered, "I love you," she had not been expecting that. Not today. Maybe once upon a time, but this recently disgruntled Cheerio, with her own problems and his, and neither of them addressing those?

She laughed and said, "Liar." He took a moment to catch his breath, to pull out, and to stare at her, for a moment. She slid from beneath him, and went into the bathroom to pee.

Whenever she came back in, he was sitting upright on the bed, with his hands on his lap, deep in thought and clearly angry. "That's your response?" he asked, refusing to look at her.

She giggled, "Come on, Cornflake…" He got up and stormed out. She wanted to give chase, but you know what? Not today. Instead, she grabbed new panties, shorts and a top, made a mental note that he had just came inside of her, EXCUSE HIM! Then, she went to go wash up, slightly paranoid about that slipup. Like, they hadn't had condoms in a while, but he'd at least thought to pull out before, and he'd done it so effortlessly, just right inside of the hotspot, like that was how it was meant to be.

She had to admit, it was kinda hot. She liked that feeling. She felt claimed. She felt like he'd made this grand declaration that this/she was all his and he didn't care what that entailed. Then, he followed it up with words that she had been waiting for hear him say for SO long… But… she sighed, again.

 _Stevie told me that he loves me. He didn't mean it. He was cumming inside of me and my lips were on his neck and well, dudes. But, it felt soooo good to hear. Especially with him in me and my legs wrapped around him. I wanted to say that I loved him too. But, I was gonna mean it and I know he didn't. I would've looked stupid and I might lose what he lets me have from him. So, I just said, "Liar," and laughed. It was NOT well received, but honestly - know what… I think I'm done with all of the desperation. Freeing myself of Rhadja and Champ sort of freed me up, in general. I love me some Stevie, but he has to handle me how I want to be handled, or he'll have to live with me handling him however his actions make me handle him._

 _._

A few days later, after he had been avoiding her, and moping, hanging out with his "grown up friends" as she called Tesla and Chase, in her mind, she finally sought him out. "So… I was wrong to respond that way. I should have just said, I love you too." Stevie's face brightened, but he seemed determined to try to stay moody. She sat down, took his hand, kissed it and said, "Because, that's the case. It's been the case forever, and now that all this time has passed, it's only become more and more the case. Like… I was thinking about whenever I leave here, and I'm supposed to try to live life or whatever, and I know that most of that willo be me loving you, the same way that I loved gymnastics and now have to let go of it forever. That's how much I love you - like… Like my greatest passion. Like my life's work. I said what I said pretending to be stronger than I am. That was so stupid of me. I never have to be strong around you, because no matter what I am, you keep me safe. You… always have."

He pulled her to him to kiss her. "You're the most special thing in the world. I was thinking about life after this, too. Like, I was thinking… That… If you did want to be friends, outside of here… My dogs already have a home that they're comfortable in. I don't need to shake that up. So, we could hang out, if you'd even want to." She smiled super bright and her belly fluttered. "That's about the closest equivalent I have to your gymnastics love."

"It's the best offer for anything that anybody has ever given me," she said.

He put an arm around her. "So, if I remember correctly, we got things to talk about. My graduation party, my mail, and what happened that night. I think we covered that I care about you and I'm willing to treat you like you're worth and be your friend…"

"I'm all ears, Stevie, my LOVE." She giggled and he blushed.


	22. I'm Sorry That I Hurt You

**I'm Sorry That I Hurt You**

In addition to explaining what happened the night of the party - everything that had been going through his mind, the feelings, and his mistakes leading up to that (with the meds and such), Stevie also opened up about the whole Dani catfish situation.

"Who else _could it have been_ BUT Bukowski?" Cheerio wondered.

"I know, I know. I just don't get why he would have done it. Like, what is the point of doing something like that?"

"Maybe he just needed somebody to chat with. I've drawn the conclusion that he has zero friends outside of this place."

"He has zero friends _inside_ of this place, because he's a fuckin' creep."

"Then, why do you need a rational reason for him doing that mess?"

"I like to be able to fully grasp why somebody dares to try fuckin' with me!"

"Don't worry about it." She rubbed his arm. "Btw, ummm… You… came inside of me…" His head tilted to the side and he avoided eye contact, but she continued, "We never really discussed that, but I was kinda like wtf?"

He went pale. "Sorry. I just got caught up in my emotions. I knew that I couldn't hold back from telling you how I felt no more and I guess I got carried away. Did you hate it? Did you feel violated?" She blushed and shook her head. He smiled, "You liked it." His eyes were tearing into her and she grew hot at the intensity of them. She got lost for a moment within those things.

"It was unwise," she said. "But, I'd be lying if I said that I'm gonna want you to stop." She blushed more. He licked his lips and looked her over, nodding his head in understanding. _That means consent._ He squinted his eyes in confusion for a moment, then voiced, "That means consent, right?" She laughed and turned seriously so red, she almost looks cartoonish. But, she nodded.

.

"Alright, Ladies. This is our annual April Showers Blessings Festival. I feel good because we have such a good team of ladies right now. I feel good because we have a lot to donate, even though our sales were way, way up last quarter. Every newb has a vet, and everybody has a job today. First and foremost, have fun. Secondly, work hard. Third, let's do it!" Becky cheered for the Pieces of Mercy ladies.

Stacie smiled at Dani and waved her along with one hand. "You're sticking with me, Kiddo," she said.

"I'm… older than you," Dani said, softly.

Stacie just smiled and wondered, "Do you have any trouble lifting stuff?"

"No. I'm a hard worker, and eager to do my part. That little handi-faced girl got me excited."

Stacie winced at her language. She had heard that Dani "had no filter" and often "put her foot in her mouth," but _Jesus._ "We'll work more on you not saying whatever pops in your mind, but her name is Becky. That word that you just made up is inappropriate, and also, never refer to her condition without her bringing it up. Okay?"

"Yes. Sorry. Of course. Becky. Becky." Dani nodded her head and began to help load up boxes into their vehicles. "You are the voice of reason and responsibility twin. Thank you for letting me work here until I find something."

"It's pretty much a thing that happens here. Most of the staff came here as a step up and just decided to stick around. You might like it!"

"I don't know. There's a lot of people to interact with. I'm so bad at it. I worked at a coffee shop before this and I went home and cried everyday. It was so stressful. People are very pushy about their coffee orders."

"Oh yeah! Especially the coffee snobs. Well, what kind of work do you think that you'd want to do?"

"There's nothing that I'm actually qualified to do and I'm not that quick of a learner. I guess I could do something like put things on a shelf."

"Stocking. That's a real job! Look for stocking positions if you go searching."

"Do you think your brother's fiance will want me to go somewhere else?" Dani asked panicking.

"Not at all. In fact, I can see you fitting in fine, here. And you were there for Stevie when I couldn't be. Our family owes you at least some degree of loyalty."

Dani paled, "That sounds like a big responsibility…"

"No, no!" Stacie blushed, bumbling over her words. The last thing that she wanted to do was frighten this woman. "I just meant that we care how well you fare. Nobody should have to go back to a place like that, if it can be helped and if you have a friend close by, that means having a helper, whenever you need. At least it does, with me. Stevie loves you."

Dani howled laughter, "Cornflake _loves_ people?" She winced, now. "I mean, of course he does! I just mean… His way of loving often looks… Well… Cray cray." She shrugged her shoulders.

Stacie quickly inserted, "He's getting better."

"Yeah, definitely." Dani rushed away with a box, about the cry. She really felt like she was messing this up. Stacie sighed. _This is gonna be a long day…_

.

Dani worked at Pieces of Mercy for a couple of weeks before moving on to work as a stocker. Stacie wasn't sure if she felt run off or what, but she didn't keep in touch, so she wasn't sure. And Stevie wasn't given visitation allowances for another month or so. Stacie wanted to visit him for Mother's Day, but he had already written to her that he did not want to "be bothered" on that day, so she arranged to come the next weekend, instead. That was more convenient for her, anyway. She could take a trip to Tennessee and visit her mom's grave and family. She wished that she could have an update on Stevie for them, but just that "he's surprisingly in higher spirits than I would think," was going to have to be the gist of it.

Dwight offered to bring her, but she could tell that he didn't want to do it, so she insisted on going by herself, then wound up having Joe, Lauren and Artie go with her, in a community center van. It was a nice little friendly weekend road trip and a hard, hard time, as well. It was good to have friends on the trip, though she _did_ visit Mary's grave on her own, while the others spent a day in the city. Joe's mom was a little bit… bothered by him being out of town for Mother's Day, but she was gracious about it. They were speaking in Spanish for a little bit, and Stacie figured trying not to let the others hear whatever they were saying.

But, whenever she checked social media, she saw that Joe had set his mama up with a darned great Mother's Day. She got her flowers, vegan candies, and 3D pop up card deliveries on Saturday. Inside of the the card envelope was two passes for a spa day for she and Mr. Hart, petting zoo tickets for the whole Hart family for the following week, and he also gave her a video call early Sunday morning for a Mother's Day prayer of thankfulness for her, and got his dad to order the Sunday service on DVD for him, so that he could see the presentations from the kids and husbands at church.

Then, he and Stacie attended her mother's old church, then she went to the grave and met her friends later at her Aunt Maybelle's house. If she thought it was difficult to control Dani's language - Aunt Maybelle was twice as old and honestly kinda terrible, in a lot of ways. She was like Mary, if Mary hadn't settled down and had kids young. She was like… Party Mary. But, she at least seemed genuinely trying not to say stuff like "a cripple" in reference to Artie's condition, and she had only used sexuality based slurs during the visit, that day. Lauren corrected her a few times before giving up and calling the silver lining that she hadn't used any racial epithets. (But, she came dangerously close to anti-hispanic sentiment, before Artie cut in with a hearty, "One of these days, I think Joe's going to take his mom to her hometown in Mexico for Mother's Day!") which caused her to redirect what it was she was about to say about _those guys south of the border._

The ride back, it took a lot out of Lauren and Artie to not talk full shit about her. There were comments, but Joe quickly reminded them that "Stacie's aunt hasn't had many opportunities to step outside of her own little zone."

Lauren scoffed, "That's the kind of thing that you say about elementary kids and know-it-all punks making bad choices during puberty. I'm sorry, but that woman is about 50. She's had plenty of time. We saw various people all over the city."

Stacie forced a smile and softly said, "I'm sorry. If you think _that_ was bad, you should've met my mama… Wait…" She always forgot that not only did they all meet her, but they all met her at her worst, and shortly before she died.

"I'm sorry that she never had the chance to change. She was robbed," Joe said.

Stacie shrugged, "I don't know if she ever would've. She wasn't even trying. Daddy was _at least_ trying. It still took him more time than I would have liked, but he's still trying to be better, all the time. Stevie is. Sammy is. I don't know if it's realistic of me to dream of a world where Mama would've."

.

Stevie had his own problems on this day. He would have simply stayed in his room, maybe went to the common room to play guitar, and just tried to hold himself together. But, he'd see his mother's face everywhere. It was disturbing. She was just real enough that he could imagine her, but not solid and he could hardly hear her voice. It was like when her mouth moved, he was trying to give her a voice in his brain, but his brain had warped her voice. He knew that she didn't sound as much like Stacie as she did in his memories. So, great - that meant that his memories were faded. That was depressing and he was basically depressed and angry and wanted to be left alone, take his stupid meds and retire.

Surrette's absence made that easier to accomplish BUT, his safety threat to the residents made the rest of the staff overcompensate. They would pass by every few minutes, and Duncan, in particular, would asked every time, "Still doing well, Evans?"

"I would be if you left me the fuck alone!" He groaned.

Duncan threw his hands on his hips and wondered, "Do you need someone to sit with you?"

"NO! LEAVE ME ALONE!" Stevie fussed.

"I'm going to keep on checking in with you. I know it's a tough day…"

Cheerio showed up and touched Duncan's shoulder, "Hey… I'll sit with him, okay? Just, I'll give you a thumbs up when you pass by. How about that?"

He sighed, but nodded his head. Whenever she went into the room, he gave a her lookover.

Stevie noticed it and glared at him. "Fuckin' perv," he muttered.

Cheerio sat on the floor, next to the bed and Stevie squinted his eyes at her. "I wasn't sure if you wanted anybody in your space…" She started to explain herself, but he yanked her up by the arms and pulled her close, holding her tightly. "You need some nurturing?"

"No. I need my best friend," he said and looked at her face, "Is that okay?"

"Of course, Cornflake." She stroked his hair. He was gonna get his best friend, no matter what. She didn't know how to turn any of this off - the best friend, the lover, the nurturer, the cheerleader, the protector - this was simply who she was gonna be to him. She didn't know how not to.

"I didn't wanna see my family today. It's hard to do this with them. They still hate her."

He turned over to bury his face in her lap. There was something oddly soothing about her thighs. They were hard with firm muscles, but her skin was soft. It was like resting on warm stones and in between them, he could smell her, but only faintly - so he didn't get all flustered, as long as her legs were together.

"Well, to be fair - You made it seem like she gave them pretty good reason to be mad at her for awhile. Hell, _I'm_ mad at her. She could've gotten you killed."

"Only, she didn't though. You know… Whenever there's psychosis, it's difficult to determine what it was that actually happened, while you're in the throws of it. Afterwards, you have to look at the evidence that's left and compare it to the things that were witnessed and the things that you remember. Whatever is consistent across the different versions must be the truth."

"I know very little about psychosis, Babe," she reminded him. "I'm only mildly schizophrenic. I've never had anything like what you go through in your bad times happen to me."

"I feel like you know enough from what you've heard for me to try to describe to you my lucid epiphanies, though."

She strummed the side of his cheek and he melted against her and moaned as she spoke. "You had an epiphany about your mom?"

"Plural. I've thought about this a lot in my clear mental state. Everyone remembers her as a villain, because they only had their fragment of eyesight for that night. They didn't have the backstory - only me, the triplets and Hank had that. They didn't have the insight that I had, or know what was in my mind when she allegedly _made me_ shoot. She didn't make me do anything. I was going to shoot Hank, whether or not she dropped dead instantly or gave me one last bit of encouragement."

"Okay…?" _She needed him to clarify and probably qualify this viewpoint._

He rolled over to look up at her face, the back of his head against her stomach, now. "If she had any influence on me whatsoever, IF I only shot because she told me to, she still saved my life."

"Okay." _Her eyebrows say the exact opposite of her mouth._

He booped her nose and expounded, "I wasn't getting out of there alive. It was already decided, I just didn't realize that at the time. Hindsight being 20/20 and all that. I had failed Hank left and right and there's no doubt in my mind that shortly after I killed Aphasia and Quinn - if I would have even been able to, he would have had a Giardi finish me off. They wouldn't have thought twice about it, just like they didn't think twice about her. Kyle… is a maniac. He'd gladly have killed his own mom if those were his orders and probably would have enjoyed it. By the time my gun was aimed at Hank, he had merely been playing with his prey. I was done for, but I also was in a suspended state. My sanity was trying to slip away from me. My mom had just been shot and at the moment that she was, a switch was flipped. Not like a light switch. Like a breaker. And I was standing there, unsure of if I had it in me to do it. She let me know that I did. What if I hadn't? What if I'd waited? I think I'd be dead, and maybe Daddy and Sammy, too. The triplets weren't expecting it, not of me. All her words did was flip another switcch on the breaker." He smiled a little and it was kinda unnerving for her, but she didn't say anything. He wrapped her arms around his neck and held her hands on his chest. "So, if anything, she saved me. When Hank was dead, they weren't positive what to do next. Cops were on the way. They knew they were outnumbered… They weren't quick enough to get the drop on Sammy and Daddy. She saved her entire family. They just didn't know that, because they could only see a small portion of the scene. Even I had to think about it before I realized. I like to think that she dragged him straight to hell, you know… if it was a thing. I watched her die and that flipped the last switch on the breaker. I still can't tell you what happened between then and here..." He kissed her palm, then started tracing his lips with her fingertips. "And I can't say any of this to my family, because they'll just think that I'm crazy or confused about her character. They'll always be convinced that she was wrong, and maybe she was. Maybe I did invent this idea in order to keep some type of good about her close to me. She's gone and she's fading. We can't communicate anymore. I don't want to turn her ghost into a saint, but I don't want to demonize her either, not for one thing that she did right before she died. She was much more than a few vindictive last words." He could almost clearly hear her say _Shoot that little shit,_ in her own voice. It was the last thing she said, and probably would be the last thing that faded.

"Well, look at it this way… Even if you can't necessarily communicate with her, you can do it at her. I know all too well reaching out to a mom that won't receive the words. You always have a five subject notebook. I say you go to the last subject, which is probably unused for right now, and set it aside as where you communicate to her. Whatever you're thinking or feeling that you wish you could say to her, write it down. These ideas, whether fabricated or actual epiphanies don't have to ever fall on deaf ears, because you've got mine, if you need them. But, sometimes, it just feels good to let it out directed at who it's intended for. You think all of those notepads I've filled up are just messages to myself? No. Everybody that I come in contact with that affects me has at least a shoutout. Your mom has affected you for the rest of your life, good and bad, and if you can't talk to the rest of your family about it, talk to her about it. Whether or not she hears you… You did your part, by trying to tell her. You can only do so much, and whatever you do, you'll have me supporting you." She felt a few tears on her hands and she stroked them off of his face.

"I do not deserve you," he whispered.

"Everybody knows that, but good of you to admit it," she said and winked down at him. He sat up quickly and raised an eyebrow. "I was just…"

"I knew it before _anybody_ did. _You_ were actually the last person to realize this very obviously true thing about us!"

"Was I?"

"Don't you think so? You've had nearly every human being in this facility tell it to you in some way, shape, or form. And me? I always felt that you were too good for me, no matter how I was responding to you. Just now, I was simply verbally validating the truth as I've always known it."

"Define always," she challenged him, smirking in amusement.

"Always" began the moment that the prettiest girl that I had ever seen in my life barged into my bedroom and hugged a notepad. Or at the very least from the time I reached out and touched her and to my huge fucking surprise, she was a real person!" She tried not to laugh. He went on, "And, yeah - I said and did things to save face, but c'mon… Did you honestly think that I was delusional enough to feel like I was superior to you?"

"Yeah. You think that you're better than mostly everybody," she pointed out.

"Right, but that's different. That's simple subjective self importance. Most of the people that I come in contact with are apeshit or they're thoroughly stupid. So, yes - I do think that I'm better than them. In that area… I'm… dare I say it? _Definitely_ smarter than you…"

"Oh?"

It wasn't worth the argument for him to start listing ways right now. "But, as far as measuring worth and worthlessness… You've got amazing things going for you. You were never destined for some destructive life. It just happened to you.I was gonna wind up here, prison, or dead, whether or not I watched Mary Evans get killed. That is one of the things about my own life that I'm most sure about. I believe that with complete clarity. While you're gorgeous and in excellent health, with perfect features and symmetrical characteristics. I'll bet you're the only person in the world who can tell the differences between your boobs."

"Wha?"

"And you've got a good attitude, albeit, you flip out at times, because of the delusional mindset, sometimes for stuff that _I_ don't even understand, but you're still adorable, lovable, beautiful and you're a kind person, too… with plenty of money, to boot. Anybody that meets you _knows automatically_ that they fall short of whatever greatness you got. And I _am_ realistic, when I'm not having a breakdown, even sometimes, when I am. So, no - my roots and history didn't make me suddenly, realistically believe that my poor white trash, hillbilly, barely hangin' on to my good sense, overbite teeth, two toned eyes, old prescription glasses face havin' ass was superior in anything but perceived social stature."

She finally let out some giggles. "Awww, don't be hard on yourself. You know that I liked you before I met you and all I had to go on was the stuff that you just said. It didn't matter. None of that made you less attractive. You know what made you less attractive? Your fucking attitude!" They both laughed at that a little bit. "I am SO GLAD you've adjusted that thing… and if you have any problems with any of that other stuff, we can see about adjusting that, too. The prescription, the cute little overbite. You say the word." She shrugged her shoulders. "But, you are right about one thing - it never crossed my mind that I was better than you, or that you didn't deserve me, and I was only joking around when I agreed with you. I'm not above you. The reason that you probably think that is because I want better for you than you seem to want for yourself. But, you and me - we fit. We're things that match that seem like they shouldn't. Like chili and cinnamon rolls."

He grimaced, "Like WHAT?" _There's no way that she said chili and cinnamon rolls, because that shit don't go together._ Just the thought of it gagged him.

"Whenever I see somebody that I like, I think to myself - that is who I like and who I want and that's how I am gonna treat him, and I am gonna get him. That's what I did, and I got my way, because I always get my way. You didn't understand that little fact when we met. Put up quite a fight, shooting yourself in the foot all of the time."

"I did understand, to a certain extent. I mean - I could definitely tell that you were _used to_ getting your way. That was a way to try to establish dominance - by making you feel like you _couldn't_ get what you wanted, I figured that I could control the situation. It was scary and I wanted to be the one who made all the rules so that I could cope with it."

"And how'd that work out for you?" She teased.

He looked her over and licked his lips, "Very well, as a matter of fact. I got what I wanted, too… and as previously mentioned, I got the best fucking deal!"

"I got a great deal, too!" she snapped. "My first real sexual awakening has been with a sex GOD." He bashfully smiled at his knees. "You know how often girls complain that sex wasn't worth the time and energy? I haven't been able to even suggest that!" She laughed and covered her face.

"Well, you set a precedent. You were very clear that I was gonna have to put my best dick forward." She laughed louder, now. "You were all like, if you're gonna get sweat and jizz on me, I better not be able to feel my legs!"

"That was never…" She shook her head, "I never even suggested…"

"YOU TOTALLY DID! You said that you had to be wooed enough, with personality or courting or something, then receive excellent foreplay and be pleasured enough to forget that you hate bodily fluids. You'll never out remember our sex talks. I committed everything to memory, even if only the gist, because I knew I had to impress you… Because I know I don't deserve it. Gotta try to earn it."

"That's stupid, because you already got it…" She held her hand out, like she was offering him her confusion.

"Yeah, but I get to keep you because I eat ass." She choked on her own saliva, laughing. He lifted her hands and stared at her breasts while she coughed. "The left one has a slightly smaller nipple, and other than that they are fuckin' identical and fuckin' amazing." She fanned herself and tried not to choke again.

"What kind of man are you?"

"Like, an abstract answer…?"

"No, I mean… Like you like boobs or butts or what?" She laughed at herself asking this _months after_ they have been sharing their bodies with each other.

He nodded his head, "In general, or on you?"

"Both!" She wasn't sure how that was different responses, but now that she knew she had to know.

"Well, usually, I like boobs, and…" he tilted his head, trying to consider a better word… "And pussy. Those are my faves of the whole, you know, lady parts. I don't mind butts, but I never really focused too much on them."

"Unless you were eating?" She joked.

"You know how cougars are. Insatiable," he shrugged his shoulders and she had only just remembered that he had that dormant sexual abuse in his history. "Gotta try a lot of different stuff with them, because you feel like… I'm just a ki8d and she's a grown woman and has probably had like great grown man sex and stuff, so you shoot for the stars." She sadly stared at his twitching eyebrows. "But, then, whenever you're with girls your own age… You could overwhelm 'em, because they're certainly not as liberated as an older woman. Girls are shamed about even getting horny, much more actually being sexual. So, for the most part, my women were freaky and my girls were the known slutty ones. Had to be able to keep up with me, or I'd wind up feeling like a jerk."

"I make you feel like a jerk?" she wondered.

"Naw. I mean… Yeah, a lot of times, but not about that. I… love being with you that way. I wish I was free to do it more and longer, and better. Like… you riding my face like a bull, in the rain, wearing nothing but a pink nightie, all stuck to your body and looking down at me and telling me what you want next." He watched her shift her legs and he smiled. "Or, you know… other stuff. Tempted to ask Duncan if you can spend the night in exchange for a sneak peek."

"Excuse you?"

"He's always perving on you. Like, he'll stare right at your ass for a full two minutes, without blinking."

"I feel violated."

"It's pretty gross. Fat fuck."

"Hey! That's rude. You can't talk about people's looks like that."

"When have I ever cared about being rude?" After a moment, he said, "I wonder if Bukowski will let you stay here."

"Oh, are you talking to him again?"

"No. Actually, he's been super lowkey since Surette bit it. I think he misses Tesla, and she's still too unnerved by everything that happened. At least that's what Chase said that she charadesed to him. He said she said, but I know that he meant she did charades."

"She can talk," Cheerio reminded him.

"Sort of. Sometimes, she can make herself talk or blurt something out. But, her speech avoidance is psychological, so technically, she can talk, but she sort of can't. It's hard for her to make herself speak."

"Imagine going through what she went through, then coming here for help and meeting that freak of nature, Bukowski and going through what I can only imagine is disgusting mop water sex, then having to deal with that Frankenstein bully and have him try to snatch you away and kill you… Then, you have to become a killer to help yourself! This would have never happened if y'all would have let me turn them over to Dr. Campion."

"Hindsight, I guess… But… I'm gonna see if Duncan is approachable. See if he'll let his nuthouse crush get lucky tonight."

"At what cost? Remember how far Bukowski favors got you?"

"Duncan… Doesn't seem like a predator."

"You literally accused him three minutes ago!"

"Yeah, but I mean, I was gonna just be like, "Hey, you know Cheerio, with the awesome little booty? I need her all night - you understand? Please, allow this…" Or, you know - some variation of that."

"Terrible idea."

"So? What's it gonna hurt? He's watching us like a vulture anyway…" Bukowski passed by, checking off on the spreadsheet and Stevie playfully called out, "Ay, Bukowski? Can Cheerio spend the night, tonight?" Bukowski looked up from the pad and Cheerio fixed her mouth to apologize for Stevie's outburst, but the orderly shrugged.

"Yeah, sure," Bukowski said. Cheerio's eyes went wide. "She'll be locked out of her room, though."

Stevie stood up and went to the door, "Like, seriously?"

Bukowski furrowed his eyebrows and said, "Not if you're gonna make it weird." Cheerio scoffed. HE was one to talk about making something weird! "I mean, it's Mother's Day and you both have shituations with your moms."

Stevie now looked suspicious, "And what do _you_ want for this?"

Bukowski sighed and shrugged his shoulders again. "You could put in a good word with Allie-Ann… Tell her that I've changed. That I've been good to you."

Technically, he hadn't been paying any attention, so not watching or intimidating. Technically, if Stevie was gonna twist the truth a little, that wasn't a lie… "Sure thing."

Bukowski nodded. "Well… Make sure that you don't get her caught." He pointed at Cheerio, "You make sure that you put something in your bed, so if you do get caught, it looks like you were sneaking."

She opened her mouth to decline, but Stevie nodded and promised, "I'll take care of that." Cheerio sighed and gave Stevie a look. Bukowski left and Stevie said, "Look, I know that it's less than ideal, but… I need you tonight. If you don't want to, I understand."

She bit her lip and nodded, "No… Of course, I'll be here. It's just… I don't know. I don't trust him. He's done some really messed up stuff."

"So have I," Stevie offered.

"That's different, though."

"Only because you love me." She rolled her eyes. "I'm just saying that if you're willing to give me the benefit of the doubt, I'll try to give him, too. He does seem genuinely bummed out about Tesla."

"So bummed out that he's still calling her by his pet name for her."

"To be fair, EVERYONE calls her that."

"EVERYONE doesn't know about the history between them."

"You don't have to come!" he said, frustrated.

"I am! God."


	23. It's Something I Must Live With Everyday

**It's Something I Must Live With Everyday**

Dwight Evans made some time to be able to spend time with Stevie for Fathers Day. It had been a while, because Stevie had been on a treatment that required less visitors and he asked them not to come for most of the days that he was allowed visitors, now that he was allowed. Basically, he was on an "If I feel like it" visitation schedule, and he didn't seem like he would feel like it any time soon. So, Dwight decided to stop in, anyway. He needed to at least check in with his son. Hopefully, his resistance to see them was steeped in recovery and not avoidance. But, he wanted to lay eyes on him to see if he could ascertain which.

He was worried that if he let him know in advance that he would be asked not to come, so he decided to simply surprise him, and if Stevie didn't want to see him, he could merely refuse to. So, Dwight made the drive, bumping country music in his truck, singing along and accompanied by Bruiser, Crusher and Smasher. Whenever he got out of the truck, he latched them onto holders by the leash, so that they wouldn't be able to stray too far away from the truck, but also didn't want to have them left inside of the vehicle. Even with the window down, it was pretty hot outside.

Bukowski saw him coming in and went over, a little bit confused, but wanting to make sure that he stayed on the Evanses good side after that whole gunning for his job thing happened. "Hi, Mr. Evans. Was Steven expecting you today?" He knew that he wasn't. Stevie hadn't approved of a visit since his birthday meltdown in March.

"No. I wanted to surprise him. Is he available?" Dwight wondered.

Bukowski waved a hand to guide him towards the rooms. "He's most likely just hanging out in his room."

"I thought that we had to visit in that big common room."

"Yeah, usually. But whenever a resident isn't a risk, it's fine for an adult to have a member of their immediate family to visit their room. Evans hasn't had any episodes in months, so it's no big deal." The door was open and Stevie was definitely laying down, but he wasn't awake and he wasn't alone. Dwight was going to say that he'd simply leave, but Bukowski had already knocked on the open door and and called out, "Evans! You got a visitor!" Stevie jumped up suddenly, but was still groggy. He barely heard what Bukowski said, and snuggled in closer to Cheerio. She was snoring. "His girl's sick," Bukowski offered. "She's kind of a big baby…"

"Fuck are you talkin'..." Stevie turned his head, then immediately jumped up, out of bed, now waking up Cheerio in the process.

She was in a snuggly pink unicorn onesie, had her hair in bantu knots, and put her hood over her head, because the inside of it was lined with satin. "Cornflake, what…?" Her eyes widened when she saw Dwight. "Hi, Papa Cornflake," she said, unsure of why she could never remember that man's doggone name. "We're just friends." She had on slipper socks, but still had a pair of ballet styled isotoner slippers next to the bed to slide into. "I will leave you two to your…"

"You're not supposed to be here," Stevie said to Dwight, grabbing a handful of Cheerio's onesie, nervously, not wanting her to leave him alone with his dad. "Visits are in the common room and I never agreed to a visit."

Bukowski shook his head, "It's cool, Evans. You've been pretty good. You can visit here."

"I don't want to visit here!"

"Okay. Then just go to the common room." Bukowski allowed Dwight to go first and watched Stevie curiously. "What's happening, right now, Evans. You're trembling. Are you having some kind of episode?" Stevie didn't answer. He was still trying to pull himself out of the unexpected horror that rushed over him when he saw his father while he had Cheerio in his arms. He couldn't remember ever feeling this frightened before. He didn't usually feel this kind of fear. This was bordering on a panic attack… _Oh shit, I'm having a panic attack!_

Dwight and Stevie sat at a table and Bukowski and Cheerio tried to leave, but Stevie caught Cheerio's wrist, much easier than catching his breath, at the moment.

"I was gonna go grab you and Papa some cookies, so you could catch up." She gave Dwight a smile and said, "He was helping me, because I've got a summer cold, and I guess now, something's happening." Dwight just nodded, politely. She was stopped up, her chest hurt, and she was certain that she had a fever, but Stevie didn't seem willing to let go of her wrist. "That super hurts," she told him. He still didn't let go. She wasn't sure if he had even heard her, or if he wasn't simply holding on to her for dear life. "Bukowski!" She called after him. He turned around and she gestured to Stevie, "I don't know what's wrong with Cornflake, but I think he's gonna snap my wrist."

Bukowski came back over, pried Cheerio from Stevie's hand and made eye contact with him, "Hey, Evans. Look at me. Look here." He turned Stevie's head and asked, "Can you hear me?" Stevie nodded, but still couldn't breathe. "Good. Listen to my breath and try to match it." Bukowski began doing some breathing techniques to try to help Stevie gain control. Cheerio checked her sore wrist, counted to her list of maladies, and glared at Dwight. "You of all people should have gotten his permission before coming here."

Stevie caught his breath and seemed to snap out of it. He felt like he needed to pass out, but he at least knew that the panic attack was over. He checked Cheerio's wrist and she shook her head, "S'ok, Friend."

"You don't have to keep saying that," Dwight told her.

"I don't think I asked your permission, but thanks," she told him, with a tight smile and red nose. "I'm going to the nurses station," she told Stevie. "I'll check on you in a little bit." She squeezed his shoulder and he desperately held on to her hand. Dwight felt… honestly like shit. He'd never seen Stevie cling to anyone like that in his entire life, and he wasn't sure that anybody had ever made themselves available to him _for him_ to be able to. He certainly hadn't, and the way that Stevie paled and panicked upon seeing him was extremely disheartening.

"I am so sorry, Stevie," he said. Stevie looked confused as he let go of Cheerio's hand and focused on his father. "I think that I know why you panicked and I'm sorry that I made you feel this way."

"It's okay. I'm in an institution. Stability, structure and all of that help to not have any occurrences. I wasn't expecting any visitors for a while." He crossed his hands over each other on the table, "Happy Father's Day."

"Thanks. The dogs are out at the truck. I was gonna see if one of the escorts would mind if you came out and said hi."

"Oh, no. I can't. My friend is allergic, and she's already sick. I wouldn't want to trigger her allergies."

"Stevie… Come on, Son. You and I both know that girl isn't your friend… and that's okay. It's fine. You can have feelings for whoever you've got feelings for. I'm sorry that we made it seem like you couldn't."

Stevie furrowed his eyebrows and glared across the table. "Made it seem like I couldn't? That is the biggest understatement that I have ever heard in my life. Do you know that I hardly ever have panic attacks like that? I've had them, but usually, they're an explosive, destructive tantrum of an attack, and usually out of nowhere. That was… I think I was just triggered. I've never… That's never happened to me before. I feel exposed, and I feel embarrassed. But, worst than that, I feel terrified. My mind is just picking up details about that day from every inflection in your voice and every facial expression that you make. I feel overpowered, and even though I don't feel like I did anything wrong… I feel vastly guilty and blameworthy right now."

"Guilty of what?"

"I don't know! Being in love with Cheri? You seeing us together? Knowing that you don't like it? Having her see me react to being seen with her that way? Pick a fucking number!" He wiped his eyes with the heels of his hands. "I don't want her to think that I think something is wrong with us being together, but unfortunately, I apparently don't have any current control over it. I feel like something took over my body in the moment that you caught me… CAUGHT! I'm talking like I did something wrong, whenever it was actually you! You wanted to "protect" me so much from my niggerlovin' tendencies, you were willing to cause me physical, emotional, mental trauma to keep me away from it, but was nowhere to be found when sexual trauma was being used to program me."

"What do you mean?" Dwight asked. Stevie looked up at him, with bloodshot eyes and shook his head. "Stevie… Somebody sexually violated you? Oh God, was it like what happened with Sammy?"

"No. I got fucked by grown ass white women. Never any men. I didn't even know that was considered abuse and I didn't even know that some of these issues that I have could occur from said abuse, whether or not I realized I was being abused. Children's minds work in mysterious ways. It's why your God character puts children in the care of adults. The adult is supposed to help the kid that they have. They aren't supposed to hurt 'em."

Dwight wanted to cry, but that would have felt audacious. Stevie was who was important, right now. "Why was it always so hard for you to love me? I just… I'm unpacking a lot and discovering things about myself and figuring out my life, and that's just something that I can't figure out. Why did you hate me so much? Was it because you thought I liked black girls? Was it because I didn't remind you of yourself? Was it because I just couldn't measure up to Sam? What did I do to make you feel the way that you felt about me?" He rested his mouth on his fist, fighting the urge to bite it.

"I love you, Stevie. It never once occurred to me that I treated you any worse than Sammy or Stacie."

"How not?"

"Well, Sammy didn't make the same kinds of mistakes as you did, but… You see what happened with him _because_ I let him off the hook so much? I didn't want you to follow in his footsteps. I didn't want you joining some gang and being a thug for those rich pricks. I wanted you to focus on your grades, and sports, and organizations. I wanted to see you go to college, and get married, have kids and become somebody. I wanted you to have a chance to do and be _better_ than Sammy, better than both of us. I thought that I was helping you."

Stevie nodded his head, "Okay. Thanks for your honesty."

"You had such a bad temper. When Sammy got mad, he could fake it so well. I had no idea that there was so much rage inside of him, until his trial. I didn't wanna see both of my sons BE that. You know… When y'all were little, a lot of the stuff that people are saying is abuse now… It wasn't considered back then. I didn't realize that I was doing this to you."

"Spankings helped me become this way, but I didn't just have a complete fucking meltdown because of a disciplinary action, Daddy. You… _beat me._ You beat me, like I was… someone that you hated. I've gotten into a lot of fights, and nobody has ever hit me as passionately as you did. I can't help but to think that somewhere inside of you… You hated me."

"I'll unpack, too, then. I'll see therapists, specialists. I'll do whatever I need to do to figure out why I would have hurt you so deeply. Whenever I have a better answer, I'll give it to you. In the meantime, I'm always gonna do my best to try to fix what I've already done." Dwight was having the hardest time keeping himself from crying, from making this about how he felt. "Is there anything that you would ask me to do, that might help you while I try to get help?"

"Don't be coming here without me saying it's okay."

Cheerio came back and handed Stevie a cookie and a water. She put a cookie on the table in front of Dwight, which she had obviously broken up and crumbled inside of it's plastic, purposefully. It had read _Number 1 Dad,_ but now it was chunks inside of saran wrap. She squatted next to Stevie's chair and wondered, "Will you be alright if I go to my room? They gave me something for the pain and I'm still on cold medicine and feel like my chest is trying to suffocate my chest."

"Yeah, go to bed. I hope you feel better. I'm sorry…"

"For what?" She asked. He still felt guilty about everything, even telling his dad how he honestly felt. He just felt bad about all that had went down in that short span of time. "I'm the one who should be sorry. You do realize that you're probably gonna be sick as hell next, right? I spread my germs all over you and your stuff."

"I don't get sick," he said, with a shrug.

"Cool!" She said and gave him a short peck on the lips, which made him feel warm and less guilty and afraid, even though Dwight was still there. He couldn't be more grateful to have her. She made him feel like the love that he had been missing and was convinced that he didn't deserve was still possible. No matter what she said - he was positive he got the good deal and she got the unfortunate fallout of that. "Later, Old Dude," she said to Dwight, without even glancing at him again.

Stevie tried not to hold grudges with his parents. He'd explode or whatever, then try to suck it up and talk to them, about anything but whatever they disagreed about. He didn't want Dwight to think he hated him or to give up on him. He just had a lot of emotions about everything and needed Dwight to try to understand that. He hoped that he hadn't made him too angry or hurt his feelings too bad. No matter what happened five years ago… Stevie loved his dad. He looked up to him and wanted to make him proud and happy. Maybe, he was finally going to be able to do something like that… Or maybe he'd just ruined his chances forever.

.

Cheerio as sick for a couple of weeks. By the time the 4th of July outing took place, she was extremely excited to be well again, but also to be able to go out and do something. And, this time, Chase had a friend in Tesla, so she wouldn't need to spend the whole time trying to entertain him. But, also - Cornflake was gonna be alone this year. Dani was gone. She thought about possibly staying there with him, but he insisted that she go see the fireworks. She loved fireworks. He didn't care about any damned fireworks. "I'm not missing out on anything," he said, clearly depressed.

But, he hadn't really been apart from her unless he absolutely had to, every since that blitz attack visit from his dad. Then, she felt guilty that she was just making him be alone for the first time since having what he described as "the scariest and most painful conversation that I've ever had to have" without any friends around him.

She couldn't even get Myron to keep an eye out for him, because Myron chose the 4th of July as his Independence Day. That's right - Myron was finally ready to allow his parents to sign him out. They were going to go watch the fireworks with his family from the institution, and afterwards, instead of getting on the bus, he was going to go home with his family, ready to live his life, clears throat excuse me, _her life._ Myron wondered if _Myra_ was too close to Myron to really be a good transitional name. She had only just gotten comfortable enough to even tell Cheerio that her pronouns had been inaccurate this entire time.

Cheerio asked, "What about Mira, with an "I," spelled like Mira, which means look, as in (take a look at the new me) but pronounced like Myra, as in a transition from the old me?"

"I love it! Myra with an I. Take a look at me. Mira! Whenever I do my coming out invitations - I'm going to have Mira with an eye!"

"Like the Eye of Horus?" Cheerio was hella excited.

"THAT'S EVEN BETTER!" She screamed, Mira screamed, they were both screaming and jumping up and down and then running to Cheerio's room for a makeover.

Cheerio had always thought that Mira was there because she was a gay boy who was trying to come to terms with identity for his family. Turns out, she was there to make sure that she was justified in feeling the way that she had felt for a long time - like she was born in a body that didn't match her spirit. Granted, Cheerio didn't understand all of the psychology, or even biology of it. But if Mira said she was a girl and had known it since she was a little girl, and had come here specifically to find out if she was okay and decided that she WAS - Cheerio was happy for her. Stevie, on the other hand Cheerio told to shut up and say ZERO to her friend about her situation. She didn't have to ask what he thought. He was homophobic, so she just knew that transgenderism was something that he would be an ignorant asshole about. And she wanted to be able to be with Stevie, but still be there for Mira until she left the home.

So, by Independence Day, Cheerio and Mira were decked out in fabulous 4th of July outfits and Stevie was moping about being left by himself, despite refusing to actually admit that he wanted Cheri to stay with him. He was having cuddles withdrawals. The whole concept of freedom itself, while he was here (mainly because of poor parenting and fucked up mental health situations inflicted upon him by older people who he trusted) - ALL of which were out there and gonna be watching the fireworks. To be completely clear - he didn't give a fuck about fireworks. He gave a fuck about the freedom to go see the fireworks, or in his case to say, "Fuck the fireworks," and go see a movie, instead (and have a very small crowd there, because all of those others would be at the fireworks.

He had known the life wasn't fair for most of his life… He was simply just finding out all of the multitude of ways _his_ life wasn't fair. He hadn't been able to see it previously. He didn't love himself enough. He didn't understand his own mind enough. He didn't realize enough truths and philosophies about humanity to know. In other words, he was programmed not to see it. He was programmed to only see the mission given to him by the people in charge of him. He was programmed to lose his humanity and become a part of a body, with a head that he would never get close to. He had, in essence, been willing to die for a religion without a real deity. He had believed in it with everything. And… it was all a lie. And none of his adults protected him. And none of his friends knew, because they had all bought the same lie. And none of the people who claimed to love him could have possibly loved him, because they all just let it happen. Except for Stacie. She tried. He was too stupid to listen to her. She tried, not even knowing all the facts.

But, now, he had Cheri. Cheri was new life. Cheri was the deity that he needed. Cheri was… just a lovesick girl who befriended ragtag misfits, probably for an eccentric collection, because rich people were fucked up like that, and soon enough, she would leave, just like Myron was leaving, and become a whole new person, just like her friend, and she would fucking forget all about him too. Next year, she'd be watching the fireworks and going home to her family. He'd still be saying, "Fuck the fireworks," but he would be saying it in his own forever alone ass company. He felt like such a whiner, at the moment, even though he hadn't said shit out loud. A whiny mind was… bothersome. He went for a walk. It wasn't like anybody was gonna notice that he wasn't around. Cheerio _immediately_ noticed.

"Crap, where is Cornflake?"

"Don't know, don't care. Today is _MY_ day - you promised!" Mira complained.

"It is. It is. I'm just concerned. He hasn't been feeling well…"

"Of course he hasn't. You haven't been waiting on him hand and foot all day," Mira quipped.

"Uncool."

"Uncool is how you literally have no identity outside of making Stevie feel better. _You_ need to declare your independence from this codependence. And, that's all I'm gonna say about it."

"No. Say more, Mira," Cheerio said, folding her arms.

"I've known you since you came here. We quickly built a solid friendship on our shared love of Janet Jackson and Beyoncé. You were the spirit of this place within weeks of being here. You always look out for others and try to inspire people to feel better… Then you got with him and you take all of that energy and you put it solely into him."

"I'm literally taking all of my energy and putting it into _you,_ right now!"

"I appreciate the energy that you're putting into me, but if I hadn't said anything, please, correct me if I'm wrong, but - you would have went to go find him, he would have bitched to you about something, you would have come back to find me and tell me that you have to go see about him, and then I wouldn't see you again. Sometimes, it was for days. Today, it would have been never again, THAT'S why I spoke up. I just want my last day to be spent with my friend."

"And I'm making that happen! Look… I won't lie to you, Cornflake _does_ require a lot of my energy, but he's so much better than what he used to be and I can't just leave him to fend for himself while he's trying to retain the stability that he's discovering. I'm sorry if you felt ignored. That's not what I intended to do…"

"It's nothing to do about it now, but enjoy today. I don't even want to talk about him anymore."

"Okay. Let's focus back on you, then. Have you told Derek? What did he say?"

Mira blinked several times and shook her head, "No… I didn't tell him, but - we're not… I'm a girl, and he's a gay guy. So, that's never going to work out, and we always knew it wasn't." She laughed, painfully, "This isn't a better subject. Let's switch it again…"

.

Stevie noticed Bukowski and Tesla talking… Or maybe he was talking and she was listening. Whatever, he guessed that they were working things out. He was surprised that she hadn't gone with the others. He could have sworn that she was listed as one of the ones to go, but then again - that shit with Surette probably scared her back into her hermit shell. Chase came to collect her, letting her know that it was time to go and she cheerfully rushed away with him. So much for that thought. "Evans! What are you doing in this corridor?"

"Walking."

"Should you be walking the grounds by yourself?"

"I am doing it," Stevie replied.

"Let's go back to the common room, or to your room, but you can't be just walking all over the building willy nilly." Bukowski caught up with him and just started talking, like they were friends, or something. Stevie HATED when he did that. "I think that your good word worked. I think I'm back in there."

"Are you gonna treat her better?"

"I never treated her badly, in the first place."

"I seem to recall unwanted sex with me and a nonverbal freak out about the mentions of me telling you where Max might be found. Speaking of, ever find him?"

"That wasn't me treating her bad. She agreed to do that for me, and as far as Max, that was a dead end. He's seemed to have fallen off of the face of the Earth."

"That means he's planning something," Stevie said. "Max was the one who liked planning things. Kyle was more of an executioner. Josh was more of a watcher. He did enough to get by, but not enough to be remembered. Probably why he's dead." Stevie suddenly realized that now _he_ was talking to Bukowski, like they were friends.

"Hey, Buddy… You need your girl tonight?" Bukowski asked.

Stevie had a couple of choices. He could rightfully remind Bukowski that he wasn't his damn buddy, become abso-fucking-lutely INDIGNANT about the fact that he even said it, and quite possibly put himself back on his shit list and/or ruin the chances of another free pass. Or, he could ask, "Would that be okay? I have absolutely nothing to offer for that privilege." Which was what he did.

"It's cool. I'll leave her door unlocked."

"Are you gonna come to me later expecting something?"

"Just, if I need an upper hand with Allie-Ann's view of me. That's it."

"Is she not with Chase?" Stevie asked.

Bukowski laughed out loud. "That is such a precious thought. Imagine how cute and clueless that would be."

"I don't know. They seem pretty in tune. He understands her charades like it's an actual language. Because she certainly isn't doing sign language when she's moving around, making all them gestures."

Bukowski frowned, "She and Chase are just friends."

"Okay," Stevie said. He wasn't sure if he believed that, but it also wasn't his business. He just would feel bad about sabotaging Chase after everything between them and wanted to be sure that wasn't what he would be doing. Hell, he was already sabotaging Tesla, having her think that this turd dumpling was worth another chance. Then again, who was he to say that someone else's sins were too much for anybody to love them. Somebody loved every piece of shit that he knew.

.

Cheerio woke up in the middle of the night when she felt somebody in her bed… and she damn near lost her mind. She yelped, he covered her mouth. She struggled, he restrained her. "Hey… It's me…" he said. Blood was rushing through her ears. Because she didn't hear that whispered shit. She managed a free hand and clawed at him. He hissed and laughed, "That felt good," he said.

"Cornflake?"  
"Uh, yeah. I said it's me."

"Why the hell wouldn't you wake me up before getting in this bed? Are you fucking serious? Do you not remember what happened to me the last time somebody snuck into this bedroom uninvited? I thought you were him!" She punched him in the chest and he laughed at how weak it was. "That's funny to you?"

"No. I was laughing at that pathetic punch. I'm sorry. It was gonna be a surprise. I'm not good at doing things like that. I'm good at doing things like this…" He kissed her on the neck, hoping he hadn't scared her so much that she didn't want him. He honestly wasn't sure how he might handle rejection tonight, after having been neglected all day. Her legs were spreading, He smiled against her skin.

"I love you, Cornflake," she whimpered. He began to rip her clothes off and she just kept repeating it, over and over. He wasn't sure how long he was going to be able to last inside of her with her giving him the thing he wanted and needed above all else, to hear her say this. _I love you._ He came easily, but recharged quickly. He didn't bother pulling out to recharge. As long as she was clinching and professing, it would only take a few strokes to wake up little Stevie.

He snuggled closely to her and held on tightly, like if he let go, she would get away from him forever. "Hey," she whispered. "Why are latched on like that? Did you not believe what I said tonight?"

"I'm latched on because I _do_ believe it."

"Okay." He snuggled more, but really was just running against her. "You can't get any closer, Cornflake."

He buried his face in her neck. "How do you always smell so good?"

"Good genes and hygiene?"

"I smell like sweaty balls."

"Yeah. I know. I like it." She stroked his wet hair, "I feel like some hard work was put in specifically for my benefit. It's sexy and it's sweet." He shut his eyes and moved again. He _knew_ he couldn't get closer, but that didn't stop the impulse to try. She chuckled a little bit. Honestly, fuck what Mira said, whether or not she was right. _Look at him. He loves you yeah, yeah, yeah…_ "Hey… You wanna be inside of me again, huh?" He nodded his head. "But, you're also extremely drained. Literally." He laughed and tried pointlessly to get closer again. "Here, lay back… I'll do the work this time."

He jumped up and looked at her, "Honestly?" He couldn't contain the joy. She never did the work, not because she couldn't, he presumed - because she was insecure about her skills. He figured that because she'd mentioned that fact plenty of times, though not whenever it was sex time, some time in passing, or afterwards. He didn't give her a hard time about it. The last thing he wanted was to discourage her from sex with him.

"Yeah, lemme see what I've learned," she said, shyly.

"I'm already turned on, so you're doing great." He told her. She laughed and shifted to let him lay down so that she could be on top. She was simply going to model his basic model - foreplay of touch and oral, ride, switch positions, a rhythmic series of paces… This already felt overwhelming… He noticed her hesitation and pulled her to his face. She was on top, but he went ahead and took control anyway. No need to overwhelm her.

Afterwards, she felt her entire body on fire. She was basically just following where his hands were leading her, but that _was_ a lot of work. She felt even _more_ special that he took that kind of time, energy and hard work for her. Her pillows were on the floor somewhere, her hair was all over her head, and she was sweatier than she had been all night. She was ready to wash up, no matter how he was gonna feel about it. If that hardcore fuck session didn't convince him that she think of him as "dirty," nothing would. This muffugga pulled her close and tried to cuddle…

"Would you hurt me, Cornflake? I mean, if you were free and stuff? When you're reconnected on the outside with your old friends?"

"No. You're my only real friend. I'm not hurting you and I'm not letting nobody else do it either." _Where the fuck had this question come from? Had he done something wrong? Had he failed her somehow?_ He worried. He thought that she knew this by now. He was SURE he had told her this, and he thought she believed him. Now, he was scared that he was becoming his father. Professing love that wasn't clearly shown…

"Cool. I knew it. I just wanted to hear you say it. Just like you wanted to hear me say I love you." She smiled at him and he let out a relieved sigh. "Think you can let me go wash up without feeling a way?" He strummed her cheeks with his thumbs.

"There's absolutely nothing that could make me feel bad, right now." She kissed him on the cheek and got up. She was going to comment about how his cum was running out of her like a fondue fountain, but that would probably just his ass started up again.


	24. And All The Pain I Put You Through

**And All The Pain I Put You Through**

Stevie had Motivation by Kelly Rowland stuck in his head, and sang it under his breath sporadically. Tesla raised an eyebrow and looked at him. He noticed, blushed and laughed to himself. "Cheerio…" he explained. She nodded her head. "You know that your facial expressions say a ton more than your charades do? I could _hear_ the 'Whatchu know 'bout that song, White Boy?' in your eyes."

 _I don't even talk like that…_ "That's not my voice!" Stevie translated the facial expression. _That wasn't completely wrong but…_ "I'ma let you make it, but you wrong tho." She glared. "Please. Stop." He laughed, entertained by her for the first time. "You could be an arsenal of reaction gifs."

 _I don't follow._ "Reaction gifs? It's like a short video of something that people put on the computer to express their emotions about something that they just read. Kinda like emojis on the phone, but moving, and usually from a movie or show or something." She shrugged. Computer stuff. She'd been in here for years. "Like, I could record you, and use your reactions to describe a wide range of emotions…" At the very utterance of the word "record" and the suggestion of doing so, she tensed up. "It's a compliment, Tess…" he offered. She forced a smile. "Okay… so… Bukowski told me that he thinks y'all are getting back together." She looked embarrassed, but not offended. "He'd better take care of you, this time. Hopefully Chase ain't take it too hard?" _What're you talking about?_ "Please tell me that you recognize that Chase is in love with you and that you made a conscious decision to friend zone him because you're hung up on Bukowski?"

 _That's news to me._ "Oh my God. Cute and clueless is right. Chase would never say he's in love. He calls everyone he gets along with a friend. He had a crush on Cheerio and said that they were best friends. He calls you his best ever friend. Deduce."

 _Well… considering the facts, it would make a lot of sense, but he knows everything about Brett. Ain't no way he'd want me after all of that PLUS the Giardi thing? Nope. Rather just keep my best ever friend…_ "Oh, Damn! Word? True dat, true dat. Wellllllllll, what can you do? When you got it, you got it…" Tesla turned her nose up at Stevie.

"I wish that my gif reaction reading was good enough for me to have accurately read that inner monologue."

 _WHY DOES MY INNER VOICE HAVE A CARICATURE BLACCENT TO YOU? Racist ass._ "Fuck what you talkin' 'bout white boy. The Friend Zone ain't real. I can do and have whatever I want. I'm a strong black woman that can have two men…" she got up and left. "Tesla, wait! You have so much more face to give to my writing material!" She flipped him off. "Awww. Gifs, Not Gestures, Tesla! Oooh! That's the name of this short story! I'll even pronounce it _gif,_ for alliteration!"

.

Stevie kept coming up to Tesla with different little "excerpts" from _Gifs, Not Gestures, Tesla_ and just reading them to her. It took her moment to realize that he was merely doing this to get more "material" out of her (more reactions that he could "translate.") "Are… You two friends?" Chase wondered randomly.

Tesla made a face and Stevie translated, "This white boy? Don't try to play me." She made a few gestures to Chase and Stevie said, "Gifs not gestures is the theme. Keep up."

"He IS annoying once he starts talking," Chase agreed with her gestures out loud.

"Both. Of. You. Love. Me." Stevie declared, not discouraged by her gestures, at all. "And, you're my motivation for my newfound mission!" Tesla immediately thought about Kelly's Motivation that Stevie had been singing lately and HOPED he wasn't talking something sexual. He expounded, "Y'all have this cute and clueless love story. I did steal that little tagline from your gross ginger boyfriend. But, what I love is how you two manage to stay in tune, even though both of your communication styles leave something to be desired."

Tesla looked at Chase and he nodded, "He _does_ think that was a compliment."

"See? You read her gestures AND her gifs!"

"She's my best friend ever."

"Yeah, I know, I know." Stevie gave him an exaggerated wink. "Friendship is your love language. That's cool. Communication is hers. You have a hard time trusting or even being comfortable around people. She has a hard time expressing herself. But, when you two are together, you're a mighty example of both comfort and communication!" Chase and Tesla both raised their eyebrows, but Stevie saw that they were still following. "In this place, it's hard to have someone in your corner. Everyone is either trying to heal, or they're the staff, which is about half and half incompetent. But, despite Chase not being able to connect with people, and honestly OFTEN running people off, because he has a hard time determining whether he's being casual or being creepy, and he comes on WAY TOO strong from the moment that he meets a new person. And despite Tesla being the EXACT opposite, barely even acknowledging a person talking directly to her, introducing themselves and asking her a question, you met in the middle, where she felt comfortable enough to communicate with you and your creepy come ons were received in the spirit of friendship that you thought you were giving, when you honestly would get the police called on you in the real world, because you're very clingy and borderline stalkerish."

"You had me for a while," Chase said, frowning. Tesla squeezed his hand and they stared at each other for a while, only slightly making facial expressions.

"Are… Are y'all using telepathy?" Stevie asked, scribbling down notes, now.

Chase said, "Telepathy isn't real. But, energy is, and sometimes, you can see it, sometimes you can feel it, and you know that things make sense with the person you're with…" He broke eye contact and hand contact and drew his hands to himself. "That's why our friendship works. Our energies match, even if our personalities and stories don't." Tesla stared sadly at the side of his face.

Stevie gasped and covered his mouth with both hands, "It makes SO MUCH MORE SENSE now! HE friendzoned YOU!" She honestly looked hurt, and Stevie felt kinda bad that he'd gotten so excited about this discovery. He toned down and said, "Well, it isn't your fault. I'm pretty sure Chase is asexual. So, that's like why6 his friendships and his love language are so seamless. He can have a friend and treat them like he's totally in love with them without wanting for any deeper connection."

"What was the point of this conversation?" Chase wondered.

"Tesla knows." She got up and left the table.

"What did you do to her?" Chase asked.

"Whoa! This one is ALL on you, Dude! If I did anything, I gave her a little bit of false hope that maybe you were in love with her. I had to see you two up close to put together that _she_ was the one in love and you were the oblivious friend who thwarts the relationship. This is a completely different love story altogether, but still rich." He began scribbling something down.

"Tesla is not in love with me. She's in love with Brett, and she has been for a long time. I remember how wicked being in love with Cheerio made you, and how it destroyed our friendship. I'm not going to let Brett Bukowski do that to my best ever friendship."

Stevie looked up, "You _are_ in love with her! I knew that I knew what the fuck I was talking about!"

"He would never let her go and she'll never be done with him. Isn't it most responsible to be what she needs when she needs it and not make things harder for her for stuff that we want?"

"That's super mature, but Bukowski isn't some omniscient mastermind. If you and Tesla are in love, he can't do shit about it."

"Only, he can, though. He killed Surette," Chase whispered. "He stuck him with that needle on purpose. He knew that Surette was there to kill Tesla and he double-crossed him and killed him instead. If he would do that to his friend, what do you think he would do to his…" he frowned, "His _pet?"_

"Whoa, Bukowski _killed_ Surette? Surette didn't accidentally stick himself?"

"That's only what they think happened because me and Tesla covered for him. Surette was a bad man. He got… What he deserved. But… Who would believe me and her over Bukowski, even if we hadn't covered for him? Everybody here thinks that I'm a child, because I have poor interpersonal communication, and people have been ignoring what is CLEARLY an inappropriate relationship between the two of them for years. How… could we not feel powerless?"

"You know what? I believe in y'all. You and Tesla can sign yourselves out, at any time and go, run away together. You have money stored up. Y'all can move to a big city, she can sell her art."

"I know that has to sound crazy to you, out loud."

"It did. Sorry. It's just… Y'all ain't prisoners, but somehow, y'all are. That shit is depressing."

Chase shrugged his shoulders. "I get to see my best friend and love of my life every single day. I only have to share her in a way that I probably wouldn't partake in myself. (I think you're right about my sexuality). Nothing ever makes me feel sexual attraction. We spend ours connecting in a way that nobody else can connect with either of us, so much that even you, the most self absorbed person I know noticed it and got inspired by it."

"Dose of my own medicine? I'm a proud papa, Chase."

"Both of us are terrified of what might be out there waiting. We're safe here. We're comfortable here. It works. We work, as is. We go out there, and maybe we won't be enough to help each other through it. Bukowski has been a part of the real world all this time. He can navigate it. He'd find her. He's not letting her go. She's safe here, with him. If she left him, I don't think that she would be."

"I'd rather Cheerio die than be trapped in some kind of fucked up abusive ass relationship with a narcissistic control freak."

Chase tilted his head, and Stevie shuddered. Shit… That _did_ resemble him. He had to try to do better. "Thank you for the conversation, Stevie." Chase got up. "Gonna go check on my friend and tell her not to listen to you because you're stupid and don't know what you're talking about."

"That seems fair."

"Have a good day."

"Hey, Chase? I'm sorry. For everything. What I did, what other people do…"

Chase brightened up and smiled, "Stevie, I think that's the first genuine form of humanity that you've ever shown me. _I'm_ a proud papa!"

.

Cheerio was worried. Whenever she began showing _signs,_ she had that impending fear that she heard that sexually active girls and women frequented at the first possible notices. It would be easier for her to convince herself that she was having an episode of paranoia if she hadn't been letting Stevie hit it raw everyday for like at least a month. That was actually the first tip off… _Where the fuck was her monthly "break" from fucking?_

Easily explained away, because her antidepressants could interfere with that. They didn't normally, but her sex life had changed and she had of course not spoken to her doctor about this. She wasn't supposed to be able to even have access to a sex life. The school year was getting ready to start and she was joining a program in which the institution allowed her to attend school, and come back, like she would if she was in a group home. They were trying to see if she could handle a small level of public normalcy. She _couldn't_ let them know that she was in the midst of a scare.

They would either think that she was too afraid to return to the real world, or her fear would be right, and very possibly ruin her life. So, she chilled out and shut up and told herself that it was her imagination… But, just to be safe… She ordered some prenatal vitamins with her month's necessities and asked Nurse Sandy to watch out for them. "I heard that they're great for hair and fingernails. I need mine on point, if I'm gonna go out for cheerleader. Need every advantage, yeah?"

Nurse Sandy didn't seem to think anything was odd about that. In fact, she agreed, "They do a lot more than help pregnant women. Sometimes, society is so bizarre in it's fascination with attaching medical health to reproductive cycles. For instance - oral contraceptives. They serve to help so many various hormonal situations, but everybody just calls them 'birth control' and credits them only for that. Like women need their bodies controlled and like the only type of control is having babies." The older woman rolled her eyes. "I _needed_ contraceptives when I was a little younger and my ex-husband just _knew_ that I was trying not to have any more kids. Meanwhile, he was willing to allow me to have health problems because _he_ didn't understand the medical aspect of why I needed them."

"Good on you that he's your _ex,_ Sandy!" Cheerio cheered, happy that suspicion had been evaded. "Hey… Can birth control… Sorry… oral contraceptives help _me_ in any way?"

"I don't see how. Are you having some problems?" Now, you've done it! You tipped her off!

"Problems? With my, my lady parts? No! I mean, it's ME - There's always problems. Well, actually, when I was in gymnastics, I rarely had a regular cycle, but the gynocologist told me that was fine. Whenever I got here, I became more regular, but the periods were awful, but whenever I had my last checkup, she said that it was normal. I just thought they were horrible, because I personally hadn't had such frequent and rough periods. So, no. Yes, but no. I sound crazy, huh?"

"Absolutely not. It's good that you're concerned about your health. A lot of girls don't ever think about it until there _is_ a problem. You should always stay ahead of it." She typed something into the computer and said, "Looks like you've got your annual coming up in October, so you've been on top of things. I'm proud of you. You're such a responsible young lady, Cheri."

Now, she felt like shit. Either she was far from a responsible lady and gonna let Sandy down, was far from it and deceiving Sandy, or she had lucked out and Sandy was never going to know… But, _she_ would know. But - she _could_ just make sure that she was more responsible. Because… She CERTAINLY couldn't bring this up to Cornflake.

He hated the idea of starting a family. He hated the thought of creating another life with his genes. He hated the idea of making his parents grandparents. Now, because she was paranoid, everything that Stevie did or said made her uncomfortable. Like, whenever he kissed her on the ear, rubbed her belly and referred to her as "Baby," "WHAT DO YOU MEAN, BABY?" She asked, holding her belly.

He looked confused. "I'm positive that I've called you this plenty of times. Are you having some kind of anxiety attack?" He asked, pretty calmly. "Is your stomach hurting? It's probably just stress from your school placement. You put on some stress weight, too…"

"FUCK YOU!" She squealed, angrily. Why did he have to point out her weight change? She was worried about that. It was another sign!

"I didn't mean it in a bad way. It's just a fact. You're not fat or anything. You were honestly pretty skinny, so this is a nice change. You've got better boobs…"

"OH MY GOD, STOP. FUCKING. TALKING. You goddamn fuckface!" She practically howled.

"Is it your period?" he asked. She let out an aggravated scream and clenched her fists, heading for the nurses' station. He looked at Tesla, "That's definitely period 'tude, right?" Tesla shrugged her shoulders and made a gesture around her belly.

"Tesla! Cheerio can't be pregnant. She's in here. When and where would she even be able to do the baby making dance?" Chase wondered. Tesla simply curled her lips and raised an eyebrow at Stevie. _He knew_ when and where. AND that it was possible AND made sense. She could tell from his expression that he wouldn't have even considered it, but now knew that had to explain it all. She felt slightly satisfied, slightly sad to be able to be the one annoying HIM, for a change. _Gifs Not Gestures._ She scoffed.

.

Cheerio packed her bag for her first week of public school in two years. Stevie was around, avoiding the subject, because whenever he tried to speak to her about it, she simply shrank away from it and reminded him about all of the ways her body had never been normal and all the ways that a pregnancy could ruin everything for her, right now, not to mention the fact that he was very clear in the entire time that she had known him that he DID NOT WANT any children, and after the shit with his dad on Father's Day, she could only imagine that the sentiment was amplified. "But, I would still want you, you know that, right? And, fuck, I don't know, Babe. Maybe it _wouldn't_ be the end of the world. Chase is in love with a girl that he knows is in a relationship steeped in sexual abuse and simply watching it happen and supporting her in the meantime, while he feels powerless to defend her. So, a possible half black, ex Nazi's baby isn't even the most fucked up edition of this place." She started crying. "I _know_ what I've said about kids, but I also know that I love you and don't wanna live without you, so if I had to try to be a father in order to keep you, I'd do it without even a second thought."

"Yeah, but no baby of mine would deserve a father being there out of obligation. I'm not letting my baby grow up with half ass or not completely dedicated parents. I would rather love them by myself, with every ounce of my being than _ever_ let them feel any of the emotions that Rhadja and Champ have made me feel."

"So… There definitely _is_ a baby?" Stevie confirmed.

She was sobbing, "Nothing else makes sense."

He approached and gave her a hug, "Hey. Hey… I didn't mean to sound like that - like I'd just be in it for you and not give a fuck about our baby. I meant… I think I'd be a horrible parent. I have no good examples, and I would do everything I could to do the opposite of whatever mine did, but I know that sometimes, that shit just comes back through people. I'd hate myself if I ever treated my kid the way that Mary and Dwight treated me. I'd hate myself if I ever treated any kid that , I gotta believe that I could never do that to you, to your kid. I mean… I would have to look at them and see you and I would fuckin' worship that kid, just on that alone." She sobbed onto his shoulder. "Whatever I gotta do to prove that to you, I'm here for it. I love you and all your extensions, even if you're the harbinger of my spawn…" She punched him in the gut as they hugged and he laughed. "You honestly punch like a little bitch. Never even punch if you're in danger. Just get a fucking gun."

"I don't believe in guns and I can't be getting a gun, now. I'm a momma." She rubbed her little belly, "Do you know how difficult it is to hide meds so I don't take anything while I'm like this? You know how difficult it is to come off of meds while all these hormones are like this?"

"No, Baby. I can't even imagine," he said sadly. "I'm sorry. This is all my fault. I insisted on nuttin' in you all the time, and over and over and we knew that this could happen…"

"I actually was thinking that it wouldn't!" She laughed at herself, "I'm the real dummy of the show. I was thinking about how you said that your sister in law, or whatever she is, might have trouble getting pregnant because of her meds, and I thought - that's gonna be me. I'm gonna WANT a baby and not be able to have one. Just as well, because Cornflake doesn't want any and I can't see a future with anybody else. How delusional can a bitch BE?"

"To be fair… you're in a mental institution."

"Logic is not our strong point."

"Either of us! And for different reasons…"

"Oh my God, we cannot have a fucking baby."

"We are gonna destroy that kid." They both covered their mouths and he eventually broke the silence, "If… You're honest with the staff, they'll make sure to deal with this situation."

"They'll contact my parents and they'll make me have an abortion. You think _that's_ the best way to deal with this?"

"I think that would be best for…" He looked at the little lump on her body. "I think that would devastate you." He shook his head. "We can't do that. I can't let you go through that because I was irresponsible."

"We both were."

"But, you WANT this baby. I can tell. I can see it. You're glowing. You're beautiful. You're all lit up and excited. I couldn't ask you to give that up because it'd be easier for us."

"Would… Would I fuck them up, though?" She asked, crying.

"You kidding? You could make me better - I imagine you creating magic from your own loins. I'll bet he or she would be the most loved, protected, nurtured, and well-adjusted to their realistically fucked up genes little person to ever walk the face of this planet. You're a spectacular friend, a wonderful lover, you're the best girlfriend, and you'd be a perfect mom. Even on your bad days, you would give everything good that you have. There's no way that you'd fuck them up." She wailed. She needed to hear that. She gave him a tight hug. "Tell me what you want me to do."

"Just… Keep silent for now. I just want to try to live this out. For all I know, it won't even be a successful pregnancy."

"Okay. I'll do whatever you want." He frowned and looked at the ground.

"You hate me for this?"

"No… I just… Realized that I never planned on getting out of here, and now… That means something totally different than it did a few minutes ago. I have to get out of here, if this… is happening. I can't…"

"One thing at a time, okay? I have to get ready for school." She kissed him on the cheek, "Thank you for that. I was so scared that you would explode and then I'd be taken to the gyno to get fixed." He smiled sadly. "I love you, Cornflake, and I don't know if you need to hear this, but… You _would_ be a good father. I thought that before you ever even gave me the time of day." He smiled. She _had_ suggested it. "People would kill to have someone as dedicated as you. Our kid would be alright. Safe as fuck, if nothing else." They chuckled.

"But… This is real, right? I'm not having a mental meltdown where I have to face my greatest fear of literally ruining the life of the only person to love me, no matter what by impregnating her with what is sure to be a cursed creature."

"Get the fuck out of my room, Cornflake."

"It's real, alright…" She shoved him, in his back to remove him from the room and shut the door on him. "You are NOT allowed to be in there with the door closed," he reminded her.

.

Stevie hadn't bothered Tesla with his excerpts in a few days and she was relieved, but also concerned. She set a college textbook sized manuscript on the table and tapped the cover of it. There were several different titles, like she was unsure which one would work. He curiously stared at it and opened to the first page. "If anything should happen to me, I would want someone, anyone to know… I _did_ have a voice. They didn't take it away from me. I just changed the way that I used it." She flipped some pages to go to a chapter labeled, "The Triple Threat." He furrowed his eyebrows and scanned it, but shook his head, "That's too much," he said and tried to shove it away.

"Your friends," she said. He frowned and sighed, then went to read it. He _knew_ what happened, at least as much as could be spoken or recorded, but he admittedly didn't have a survivor's account. It always made him squeamish to review the actions and effects of his former company. Like, from real affected people. He'd disconnected from emotional ties to people's pain years ago, but whenever he _knew_ someone and they shared theirs, it always touched him. He didn't like that kind of touch. Also, he thought rapeplay was kinda fun and actual rape accounts always made him feel gross and creepy for feeling that way.

Reading what she remembered, the things that were said, the thoughts that she had in her moments alone, and other things… troubled him.

The following aftermath, and trying to open her mouth to tell someone what happened to her, after she was found, but not being able to, then giving up. That was sad as hell. He'd stopped talking for awhile, out of sheer stubbornness. She had tried, but failed and as a result, learned to live without it. But, all of this was still inside of her, and she wrote it down, as detailed as she could recall.

 _Every time I see a hint of red hair, no matter who wears it, or the shade of red, a tremendous fear comes over me. This happened whenever I saw an orderly at my mental health care facility. I had a panic attack, and he had to try to help me through it, unknowingly making it worse with his mere presence, and mere presentation. Sometimes, the people that haunt us become monsters, and their faces ferocious and beastly, ghastly. My monsters looked like people. One in particular even kept common courtesies and actions that humans used in regular life, I don't know if to torture me more or to make me conflicted about my torture, but any human with hair from poppy to scarlet resembled the monster, because he was merely a man._

 _I found my breath, with Brett's help, and I focused on his face, his eyes, his concern, his compassion… It wasn't the monster. He wasn't the one who hurt me. I reached out, touched his face, touched his hair and he blushed, but he didn't make me stop. I was simply just noting the differences. Confirming that he wasn't the monster. I was so relieved, I was so happy to not be back where I believed for a moment that I had woken up again, I cupped his face and kissed him right on the lips. He looked confused, but he still didn't judge me or condemn me. He smiled softly and helped me to bed. He was nice to me. He was the only person who looked like him that I had been able to stand in weeks. He felt like hope, that I could heal, that the monster couldn't haunt me forever. Was he? Who knows? But, he felt like it._

"I don't need to do this to myself," Stevie said, shoving the work back to her.

She wrote something down on a separate paper, "We never know what we're looking at, until it has already affected us."

"I don't have no idea what you mean by that." She gestured the pregnancy gesture again and Stevie grabbed her arms and moved them away from her belly. "Stop that!" He hissed. She sighed and wrote down.

"It's too late for me. But, not for you. You can get better, get out, have a life."

"What are you talking about?"

She flipped her manuscript back to the beginning and traced the words, "If anything should happen to me." He stared at her. "What… What's happening to you?" She softly cried and she more lowkey this time outlined the pregnant gesture again. "Whoa! Wait… I thought that you were doing that because of Cheerio. You're pregnant _too?_ I thought that you couldn't get pregnant!"

"I did," she whispered.

"Is it…" He jerked his head towards Bukowski. _Who else?_ He shook his head, "I'm so sorry. What… are you going to do?"

She wrote down, _Check out of here, leave this with you, and if anything happens to me, this has a detailed account of everything that has happened between us, since the first moment that we met, up through this conversation that I'm having with you right now. Of course, I vaguely gave your part, but I definitely wrote that I entrusted this to you and that I walk over to the counter, sign myself out and you never see me again, but I hope that every now and then, you'll try to look me up and see if they've found my body somewhere?_

"I will. I promise. Are you gonna take Chase with you?"

 _I can't do that to him._

"You gotta let him decide that. He loves you." She frowned. "No! He _admitted_ it to me!"

 _I'm gonna move in with Brett. He's got space and money and I need help with… this._ She gestured at her belly. _I have to leave before I start showing, but I'm not so naive to think that Brett isn't possibly very dangerous. So… I hope that I'm right about you, Stevie Evans. That you're essentially a good person, not like your friends. And take care of Cheerio. She's a mess, but she's a mess going through what is likely the hardest thing she'll ever do. Teenage pregnancy is hard enough, but all the additional, you know?_

"Of course, I'll take care of here, but destroy that paper. People can't find out about her, either."

Tesla got up and walked over to the counter, stuffing the paper in her pocket. "I want to check out," she said.

Nurse Sandy's eyes widened and she nodded her head, "Okay. Well, have a seat, I'll get some paperwork and page Dr. McIntosh."

Chase, who was nearby came to the counter and said, "I too want to check out." Tesla covered her face and started crying. "It'll be okay, Chase said. I know, you're with him and you'll be with him, but I'm not letting you go out into that world alone. Not my best ever friend…" She gave him a hug.

"That's how the cute and clueless love story ends," Stevie narrated. "Two crazy fools, not self aware enough to see the possible destruction ahead of them, but aware enough of each other that whatever it was didn't even matter…" He quickly began to write in his five subject notebook, collected it, Tesla's manuscript, and Cheerio's notepad that she had left with him, and headed back for him room. Hopefully, whatever was waiting out there for Tesla was something good. Now, he had to focus on what could be out there for him. Because, if Cheerio was pregnant, and she seemed sure of it, and even Tesla knew (probably she could see similar signs as what she was experiencing), he _had_ to work on getting out, being better, doing better. It was what his dad had told him that he wanted for him and maybe he hadn't executed that greatly, but now, it was up to Stevie.


	25. I Wish That I Could Take It All Away

_Sorry it's so short, you two. Sis been working hard. HARDT._

 **I Wish That I Could Take It All Away**

"He allowed a visit today, but he never said that it was okay for Sam to come!" Stacie contested. "He doesn't even realize that Sammy is home, right now, and I just don't want to make another bad trip for him while he's doing so well."

Sam held his hands up in the air and said, "I'm not gonna make a big deal out of it. If we show up and he seems to not want me there, I'll hightail it back to the car."

Dwight shook his head, "We have to eventually get to the point where we're making sure that he knows we're on his side, whether he wants us there, or not."

"He wouldn't take it that way. He'd see it as just another example of lack of support. I don't know if y'all realize how huge it was for him to admit to Daddy's face that he was in love with a black girl, or to confess that he had been sexually abused by women that you know! Anything unsavory is likely to send him fleeing back into his comfort zone."

"No kiddin.' He almost got off of a phone call with me because I asked him why he thought he needed a retainer for his teeth," Sam said. "He thought that I didn't wanna pay for it and started telling me that he'd pay me back. Like, I was just trying to let him know that his teeth are fine. You think that his girlfriend is putting pressure on him to change?"

Stacie shook her head, almost instantly, "She doesn't put much pressure on him for anything. He's wanted his teeth fixed for years. Hank told him that he didn't have enough charm to pull off a facial quirk and that he was gonna have to make sure he excelled in something, because of it." Sam turned red at hearing that. "He's got a lot of self-esteem issues that he's just now even taking a look at. I think she actually helps him out with that, but his issues didn't start with her, so it's gonna be easier for him to accept her niceties. As long as we smooth him over while also supporting reasonable changes, he should get to a good center of self love."

"Sound like Joe," Sam said. Now, she turned a little red, while Dwight just frowned.

.

The center had been trying to do new things to increase normalcy for the youth, under Dr. Campion's requests, so Pepper set up an orientation for the students, whether they were in the new program, like Cheerio, or going to be attending classes given at the institution. Cheerio wanted to already be gone by the time that this happened, but that didn't pan out. Whenever the end of July rolled around and she was still there, she saw Dr. Pepper about it.

"I don't understand why I can't be released if you say so," Cheerio told Dr. Pepper.

"Well, you _will_ be released. I have already gathered all of the papers to sign. Your parents simply want a comprehensive list of all of your recent medical history. It's fine. You have to take a physical before you're allowed into school, anyway, so we'll just be sure to run all of the tests we need at that time."

"I really just wanted to already be adjusting to life at home when I went back to school, not the other way around, or in tandem. But, this is the closest that I've gotten to home, so I guess I'm satisfied."

"You don't _have_ to be satisfied. It's okay to be upset, as long as it doesn't consume you. You worked really hard to be out of here by the summer and your parents have prolonged it for some paperwork. That's a valid reason to be upset."

"Well, I'd better be out by homecoming! I have a Titans outfit that I wanna wear to the game and I worked really hard on making sure I look like Gladiator Beyonce on the Pepsi commercial."

"I don't know what that means, but you'll definitely be gone, by then. This will take a few more weeks, tops."

So, by the time that the orientation was held (which was on a visitation day for the adults, as well, she was on edge. She wasn't sure how long she would be able to keep her secret! She was hungry all of the time, she had not been able to fake out the nurses over her medication a few times and was having nightmares that she had a little baby girl with nine fingers and nine toes because of it - and in the dream, it was the right hand but the left foot that were missing appendages, which somehow made her even more terrified?

Plus - she was starting to get snug in her belly area on her clothing. She still looked very small, but for _her,_ any sign of a belly could be deemed suspicious, so her mind made it bigger than it even was to anybody else. Stevie was helping her to remain calm. He had gotten slightly better at doing things under pressure, and remembered some of his training to try to share with her, to ensure that she could handle stressful situations, in her condition. None of the bad parts of his training, simple disassociation tactics and a little bit of combat breathing.

Plus, he did little tasks where he could, to make her happy. Like making sure her toes were presentable, even though she hardly ever showed them. Since she didn't do as much with her feet as she used to, she was obsessed with making them pretty again, and he liked feet well enough, so it certainly didn't bother him to help her maintain them, despite the fact that she usually had them tucked away or swaddled. She'd gotten used to having gymnastics feet, dancer's feet… feet that weren't meant to be pretty, because they were worn in talents.

He assisted with her waxing, her facials, and was gradually learning how to help do her hair for the night - stuff that he would "need to know" when they were out and living together.

That's right - their plans for the future went from "still be friends" to "live together" in a few short weeks. They would have to combine whatever resources they had for the best results for a child. She already knew that her parents wouldn't be very supportive, but hoped that they'd be able to at least manage up until she turned 18 and gained her trust fund. To be honest, she didn't really _want_ their help. She felt grown up, now. Silly thoughts, if she said so herself, considering how effortlessly stupid it was of her to get knocked up, despite having ALL the knowledge it took to not. But, looking at Stevie concentrate on perfect toenail art eased any chance of regret. Seeing him do a celebration shimmy because he did her Bantu knots better than she did, then asking for a kiss as a prize, made all of her fears subside. Witnessing him break his neck to make sure that she didn't trip over something a resident left in the floor or some other pretty trivial danger that there was no way that she was going to greet not only gave her hope for their future, but for this child, as well.

Stevie had even changed from writing stuff to his mom, to writing to his kid. He was hoping for a girl, but couldn't be sure, so just addressed his plans and hopes to "Cowbaby."

"Ummmmm? Cowbaby, wtf, man?" Cheerio asked, snooping over his shoulder.

"Because, I don't know if it's a Cowgirl or a Cowboy!"

"Why would they be a Cow _anything?"_

"I feel more connected to them if I personalize them. Anybody can be a cowperson, as long as they got one shitkicker parent, which they do."

"See… This is where the problem is. Why would I want my baby out here being associated with kicking shit, Cornflake?"

"It's just like a name we call ourselves. A more lowkey N word, but for rednecks."

"There's no way that's comparable to…"

"Yeah, yeah. I'm writing Cowbaby. It's already in progress." He began to read out loud, as he wrote, "Today, your mama tried it…"

She giggled and shook her head, "I'm heading to orientation. You've got a visit today, right?"

He sighed, "Yep. Whole family situation."

"Are you ready for that?"

"I gotta be. I have to test the waters to see how they're gonna be to Cowbaby. Like, if they're all dismissive and shit, I honestly don't wanna be bothered with them. I don't need that kind of negativity in my life."

"But, if you tip them off, they'll speak to administration, and _I_ don't need that kind of negativity in _my_ life."

"I won't let nothin' happen to either of you," he promised. "They see me as a dreamer. They'll just see this as another one of my hypothetical futures."

"Even Susie Q?"

"Well… She won't betray me, if she does figure it out…"

"Okay. Me and Cowbaby are trusting you, Daddy." His eyes grew wide with joy and she kissed him on top of the head. He kissed her on the belly and she left for orientation. He was out of his room not too long after, carrying his notebook with him everywhere, simply so nobody could get their hands on it and use it against him the way that Pendleton did that time. What was in here was so much more important to him, now.

There was a bigger crowd for the orientation than he suspected. Of the 20 teenagers in the youth ward, at least half of their parents or guardians were there and several had others with them (like little kids/siblings or something of the residents). There was still empty chairs in the section of the cafeteria blocked off for the event, but there also were still parents coming in. Cheerio was seated in the back with a couple of other girls whose parents never came to anything, either. She caught his eye and gave him a smile and subconsciously rubbed her belly. It was times like that, that he wished that they were telepathically connected. He wanted to know the exact thoughts and feelings she had when she did things like that. It made him need to be better, and not better in the sense that he was already improving, while with her. He wanted to be so much better that he was a different person. He wanted to be worthy of her and of this new addition to the world. He looked up and saw his family coming into the place.

Mercedes was along for the trip and looked like she was having some kind of sensory overload. He rushed to collect her and help her be seated next to him, asking her if she needed anything - maybe some putty or if he could grab her some water. Sam raised an eyebrow, but accepted this bizarre show of good hosting as he sat on the other side of her. Stacie and Dwight sat across from the three of them and Mercedes declined anything that Stevie offered, but did seem to feel much better.

They were involved in a conversation when he stopped speaking suddenly and turned to see Cheerio. She was doodling in her notepad so she didn't see them walk in. But Stevie was sure of it those were her parents. He tried to call out to her, "Cheerio!" He didn't want her to be caught off-guard by their presence there. He knew that she hadn't been expecting them to show up. In fact, he himself was so surprised to see them there, that he thought that perhaps he was mistaking them for someone else. After all, Rhadja was dressed like she was trying to be low-key at a funeral and Champ seemed preoccupied to say the least. They took a seat in the back and Champ stayed on his phone the entire time. Stevie wrote something down, nonchalantly went over and passed it to Cheerio and kneeled while she read it. _Don't look now but I'm pretty sure your parents just came in._ She definitely looked now. He rubbed her thigh and gave her a kiss on the knee.

Rhadja pretended not to notice but she definitely did notice. Champ simply looked at them, all pretension aside. He wondered who the hell is this boy and what is he doing by my daughter? Rhadja calmly placed a hand on his, and he turned his attention back to the front.

Stevie returned to his family. "Everything good?" Sam wondered. Stevie nodded, but the Robinson arrival made for a sudden Segway into his own family issues.

"I accepted a visit today because I wanted to have a chance to talk to y'all about the future." They all nodded. "So… I know everybody knows now that me and Cheerio… Me and Cheri, Cheri and I, are moving forward… as something. She's going to be out, soon. Possibly back at home, possibly at a group home, I don't know. She hasn't had the chance to speak with her parents about it yet." He glared in her parents' direction. "But, wherever she winds up, she wants to keep up visits and keep up communication and she never got her license, because she's been here, so I was hoping that sometimes, she could tag along with some of you?"

Stacie nodded her head, and cheerfully agreed, "Of course she can! And group home? Come on, Stevie… We're not gonna let your girlfriend go get cooped up with a bunch of strangers."

"That's literally what y'all are," he reminded her. "I mean, you're _my_ family, but…" he shrugged his shoulders. "We're gonna be together, I think. It may turn out that she gets out there and her future looks better without me in it, but if that doesn't happen, well - I just have to know that she's okay."

"We'll treat her just as we'd treat you," Sam promised. Stevie didn't look comforted by that vow. "We'll treat her like she's our own, like family, like somebody we love." He was a little bit more comforted by that.

"And, if it gets really serious? I mean - I remember, no offense, Mercedes, certain members of the family saying that they'd be nice until that relationship fell apart, which to me proves that a person ain't _really_ being nice."

Sam looked confused, "What do you mean?"

Stevie looked at Dwight and shrugged his shoulders, "I just need everybody to be straight with me, right now about how y'all are gonna handle the possibility of me and Cheri havin' a future together. Because, if I'm gonna get the same kinda walking on eggshells support and feaux politeness that Daddy gave Sammy when she came around, I don't want it. I'd rather separation."

Mercedes nodded her head and said, "Well, I for one am genuinely supporting anything that you choose to do that doesn't bring any harm to yourself or others." She gave him a squeeze on the shoulder, for emphasis.

"Duh, Steves," is all the Stacie said.

Sam wondered, "What makes you think that Daddy didn't support me?"

Dwight cleared his throat and nodded his head, "I didn't seriously believe that you were really this person. I didn't know Doll. I didn't understand the changes that you had made. I wasn't actively trying to cause any problems, but no - I wasn't sold that this was truly your future."

Sam scoffed a little, rubbed Mercedes' shoulder, kissed her on the cheek and said, "Well, glad that's over now. Stevie could have not brought it up, but I guess it's out in the open."

Stevie pointed out, "I brought it up, because I'm not doing what you did - where I bring my clearly uncomfortable girlfriend into a hostile environment, where all of the generosity is noticeably fake and have her be tense and upset the majority of the time."

"The only person who was hostile was you!" Sam snapped at him.

"Have you ever asked her if that was what she felt?" Stevie wondered, tilting his head to the side as he looked at Sam.

"She knew that Mom wasn't on the up and up, but Dad was at least trying to pretend."

"And you think that she couldn't sense that he wasn't sincere? I mean, here she is, we can just ask her."

Mercedes offered, "You know, all of that is so far behind us now, as a family, it doesn't even matter. What's currently important is what's best for you, Stevie." Stevie smirked at Sam, as though that was a small victory. Sam simply frowned. Why was it so hard for _him_ to have seen through Dwight's previous pretenses, when according to these reactions, even a blind woman noticed? "What are your intentions for this girl, Stevie?" Mercedes went on to ask.

He clasped his fingers together, "We're pretty much family. I think I envision family with her."

"You think?" Sam repeated. Mercedes held a hand up to him, as a request that he maybe shrink back, for now.

Stevie commented, "Yeah, I think. Because, like I said, she hasn't actually tasted her freedom yet, and you, of all people, should know that there is a lot of transition and shit upon rejoining the real world!" He sighed, "But, I see that it's gonna be hard for y'all to support my decisions and to approve of us."

Stacie and Mercedes both offered rebuttal, but he quickly said, "Not you two. Thanks for the support. I'll… Remember it, whenever things turn out, you know, however they turn out. Thanks for stopping by." He sat for a while, then wondered, "How is Dani?" They all uncomfortably exchanged looks. "Ran her off, already?"

"She just left one day, Stevie." Stacie said, sadly. He nodded.

"Okay. Thanks for trying."

"It'll be different with Cheerio. I promise. I'll guard her with my life…"

He just smiled and checked the clock. They still had time, but he was pretty much done with this visit. "Do y'all wanna stay on the list to visit?"

"Of course we do!"

Stevie looked at Dwight, "Daddy, you've been kinda quiet. I was mostly talking to you, this whole time."

Dwight sighed and shook his head, "I know what you want me to say and I want to give you my full support, but I have to be honest with you. I don't know if you trying to build a future with this girl is a good idea. I don't know if it'll be good for either of your mental health, or for your recovery from all of the previous trauma. How much of that time will be spent with both of you trying to be normal? How much of the relationship will be functional with your combined problems, in the outside world, without supervision and the stability of it?"

Stevie chuckled. "Dude, these people barely pay attention to us. The less trouble you cause, the less they watch you. Like, we're fucking…" He caught himself, "Fucking unsupervised, A LOT."

Sam said, "Maybe so, but at least whenever you have a major event or like a major episode, they set up a camera in your quarters for suicide watch and stuff."

Stevie furrowed his eyebrows, "No they don't." _Because, if they did - they would have seen him fucking Cheerio senseless on multiple occasions. It was when he was having an issue that he turned to Bukowski for Cheerio access._

"Well, they don't make a big deal out of it, because they don't want you feeling watched, but they've definitely done it several times. They give us a courtesy call that the night went well, after the fact," Dwight said.

Stevie was perplexed and shocked. Like, that would have to involve more than Bukowski. But, if that was the case, who was lying to who? Was Bukowski lying to the staff about this and watching them, copping a field? Were other members of the staff watching and keeping things on the hush hush, and if they were, was it because they felt bad for the teens and wanted them to have some normalcy, including sex, or were they perverts in positions of power, exploiting the vulnerability of mentally ill teenagers?

"Where'd you go, Stevie?" Sam wondered.

Stevie quickly snapped out of it and looked to Dwight, "Are you gonna telle that your reservations have absolutely, positively _nothing_ to do with her skin color?"

Dwight stuttered a moment and answered honestly, "It _has_ to be considered, Stevie. Because of your past…"

"I inherited that. You GAVE me that and I've worked really hard to rid myself of it. I've done so well and you won't even give me a pinch of support!"

"How's it going to be when you have a break down?" Dwight wondered.

"What, like am I gonna spit in her face and call her a "N word" during a lovers quarrel? I haven't said that word frequently in over a year, and haven't slipped in months."

"That's not the only one thing. What about if you ever have kids? They'll be confused at best to learn about your history and at worse, they'll hate you."

"My kids will love me, because they would never even _know_ that person. They'll be hard pressed to even believe it possible!" Stevie spat out, through tears.

"Hopes don't make the future that we think they will."

"What are _you_ gonna think of my kids? Are you gonna be looking at them, thinking I never should have dared bring them into the world, because I did it on hopes that maybe won't pan out?" Stacie put a hand on Stevie's and he jerked his away, still fussing at Dwight, "If I have kids, I don't want you anywhere near 'em. You fucked up enough Evanses."

"Steves…" Stacie attempted, but Stevie turned to Mercedes, suddenly concerned.

"Hey… let me clean your finger nails. Guess you clawed some dirt off of the table… Wait, I think that's your skin." She simply shrugged her shoulders and he did clean the skin she clawed her arms during his tantrum. "I'm so sorry."

"It's not your fault. I haven't been well. We're switching up my meds." She cupped his face and he froze, "Stevie, whenever you start having kids, I think that you're going to be one of the best dads to ever walk this Earth."

He broke down in tears and fell on her shoulder. She gave his back a run up until a girl's voice said, "I'll take it from here…"

Stevie, as though he had been dying and was given life saving water jumped up from the table and threw his arms around Cheerio. "Hey… It's okay, Cornflake. Whatever it is, I'm here now. You're okay." He wrapped both of his hands around one of hers and whimpered, "Please, make them leave." He buried his face in her neck and just repeated it over and over.

"Susie Q… I promise to take care of him. Next time should be easier," She was stroking Stevie's hair and he refused to let go of her. "I don't know what happened here, but we'll figure it out and set things right…" He marched off and yanked her arm with him, in his direction. "Ouch!" She hissed and quickly readjusted to fall in step with him without hurting herself further.

"And he wants our blessings for _that?"_ Dwight said.

"Daddy, Stevie doesn't care about getting your blessing. He just wants to hear it."

"He said he didn't want us to lie about it!"

"He was lying!" Stacie fussed. "He wants you to accept him like you do Sammy."

"For cryin' out fucking loud, Sammy wasn't in an institution for killing Hank and watching his mom die. Stevie and Sammy aren't the same people and can't get the same results from life."

"The only results he really needs is to believe that you believe in him," Mercedes said. "If you had told Sam what you thought of me, I'm sure it would be a very different dynamic between you two, now. And Stevie's far more vulnerable than Sam was." They watched Stevie as Cheerio appeared to be trying to part ways with him for a moment. He didn't want her to,but she wanted to acknowledge her parents and the orientation was ending. Ultimately, she went along with him back to her room. Her parents didn't come check in with her.

…

But, they did look into everything with a fine tooth comb. Though they weren't ones to make a scene, neither of them cared for that display of familiarity that their daughter had with that other boy. Not only were they looking at every letter that she had ever written them, but every bit of information that the institution would share and definitely anything that they could round up on _him._


	26. And Be the One Who Catches All Your Tear

_Probably the shortest chapter ever, but the next one will be super long, because more things happen in it._

 **And Be the One Who Catches All Your Tears**

Cheerio had to spend most of her time convincing Stevie that they didn't have to talk to his family, or anybody else that he didn't approve of. This was their baby and she should be getting out soon. Whatever she had to do to keep this baby safe, she was committed to it, and to him. "I'm going to be here for you, Cornflake. We're gonna be a family, okay?"

Eventually, she got a smile out of him. "I never in my life thought that I would ever hear that said to me and be this happy about it. I'm just so scared. Good things don't happen to me, or for me. No matter how hard I've worked or tried, everything that I touch turns to shit and I feel like maybe you're another thing on that list. Like when a bank robber in a cartoon makes it out of the bank and is dancing around with a big bag of money, thinking that all of his problems are gone, then the little doggie detective finds him and doesn't rest until he's behind bars. The robber ends up with less than what he had before the robbery. I know I don't deserve you, and I always expect to lose you, but this…" He cradled her little bump, "This is literally the most precious thing I've ever worked on. I. Don't. Know. What. I'd. Do…" He couldn't even bring himself to think about losing her or this kid. After all of his letters to cowbaby, and allowing himself to imagine them as a family - any opposition felt like torture.

"Nothing can keep me away from you, but you," she told him, and kissed him on the forehead.

.

The first day of school was stressful, but exciting. Cheerio had a chaperone, but they were plain clothes and nearby, but not hovering, as to not make her feel like a complete freak. She was signed up for honors classes and a couple of fun electives, including dance, fashion design, and creative writing. Her other classes were typical, though she felt overwhelmed by all of the syllabi. That subsided once she brought her homework back to the institution and Stevie looked over everything and declared, "Piece of cake. You've got this. What you don't get, I can easily help with," he shrugged his shoulders, "Or even _do._ I had to teach myself most of this." He put her paperwork in front of her, wrapped himself around her, with his hands on her belly and promised, "We can finish it like a team, like we do everything else."

Nothing in the world made her happier than when Stevie made her promises and claimed her. Whether he was calling her his best friend, his girl, his love, or whether he was calling her his partner, themselves a team… Calling her his family was the most rewarding thing in the world. And, she could be confident in it. It wasn't like the things that he said in the beginning, where he himself was confused and didn't seem to know _what the hell_ he thought of her. Now, he did know who she was to him, and she knew it too. She was everything. They were it. She had won. He smiled and looked at her questioningly, "What are you thinking about?"

"Our family," she said. The genuine look of happiness in his eyes melted her heart.

He nodded his head, "That's all that I ever think about now," he confessed.

.

She was doing okay, up until the point that Nurse Sandy and Dr. Pepper came to retrieve her about some paperwork. She worried, a little bit, but pushed the thought away, then whenever they sat her down, and her parents were escorted in, she yelped. "Rhadja? Champ!" She didn't know whether she was excited or something else, but the look on Rhadja's face made her quickly leap to "something else" and Champ had never looked this displeased with her, in her whole life.

Dr. Pepper said, "Cheri, we brought you here, because we see something from the physical that you had to take in order to go through the high school transitional program that worries us…"

"Listen, Lady," Rhadja said to Dr. Pepper, "However you want to word this, we placed our daughter in your care, and now, we're getting contacted to inform us that she's tested positive for pregnancy. That is unacceptable and outrageous. So, give us the papers for us to sign her out, and we will be on our way. You can speak to our lawyers about any other details."

"What?" Cheerio uttered, "You're taking me home?" She wondered, half delighted, half terrified.

"We're taking you out of _here_!" Champ said.

"And putting me somewhere else? I'm almost out! I just started a transitional program to determine that I can be out, within a few weeks!"

"We aren't going to put you in another mental health facility. We knew that you were well when you finally asserted yourself in your letter. We _thought_ that was the first sign of actual progress. You were too dependent. You needed to find yourself and learn to stand on your own. Then, you do _this._ We're bringing you to a doctor to fix this situation," Rhadja said.

Dr. Pepper said, "If everyone will please calm down…"

"I'll be sure to tell my lawyers that you said that in reference to your severe incompetence!"

"It wasn't Dr. Pepper's fault!" Cheerio tried. "I was irresponsible and I snuck around and got myself pregnant."

"You shouldn't have been ABLE to sneak around. And who is the predator? Probably that disgusting orderly with the overactive sweat glands."

"No! It's my boyfriend and we're in love and gonna be okay…"

"Cheri, please, don't say anything else…" Dr. Pepper begged. She knew that Cheerio was trying to help, but since she didn't know this was happening, she didn't know what the girl would say - just that it couldn't make anything any better, for anyone involved.

"Boyfriend?" Champ repeated. "So, it's another resident?" Now, he yelled, right at Pepper, almost directly in her face, "So, residents are allowed to just do whatever the hell they feel like doing, here?"

"If you two had visited, you'd know exactly how things work around here!" She snapped, angrily. "Stevie's family knows how this place is, but he's _stuck_ here, ordered by the legal system. _You_ chose to make me be here FAR LONGER than you _knew_ that I needed to be. I'm a regular girl. I have needs. Of course, I was gonna try to have those met…"

But, Rhadja honed in on only one word of that whole cluster. "Stevie? Steven _Evans,_ Stevie _?_ The white supremacist who murdered someone and got over on the justice system to be cozied up in this place. _That_ person had access and opportunity to rape my daughter?"

"That's not what…"

"Silence!" Rhadja snapped and Cheri immediately followed the order, unconsciously. SHe wished that the woman didn't still have that power over her, but it was like her tone triggered something uncontrollable and Cheerio was powerless. "Let's go," she said and got up, taking Cheri's hand.

Champ said, "Everything from here on out is through our lawyers. Expect to be unemployed for the rest of your life, within a week's time, if that."

.

Stevie looked at who he knew from photos to be Cheerio's parents, dragging her away from the place. Well, it was more like Champ was dragging her and Rhadja was walking, pretending not to notice the scene happening right behind her as he followed, with his teenage daughter practically tucked beneath his arm. She was screaming, like she was being burned alive!

"Cheerio?" Stevie rushed in that direction while Dr. Pepper spoke with the orderlies about what was happening.

"Cornflake!" She reached out towards him with grabby hands and he caught her fingertips, but just as quickly, Champ pulled her away from his touch.

Stevie felt like his world was being torn apart. _What the hell had happened?_ Nothing for all of this time, then suddenly, they were taking her away, literally? They were actually ripping the two of them apart? _They know…_ He tried to rush behind them, not even really knowing what he planned on doing, mostly voting on begging them not to do it, but Duncan, Mario and Bukowski subdued him and Cheerio watched them being torn in different directions, and hers far worse, to her, as she was about to lose both of them. They were never going to have their family.

"Evans. Calm down," Bukowski said, softly. Stevie was howling, crying, screaming, kicking, fighting. "Take him down," Bukowski said. Duncan administered the shot.

.

With Cheri's mental state being what it was - or rather, her recent mental history, the doctor needed to touch base with her psychiatrist, to ensure that an unwanted abortion wouldn't cause psychological damage. "Her psychiatrist allowed this to happen to her, while she was in their care!" Rhadja complained.

"The girl is threatening to sue, to call the police, to call a judge… and even though you and I both know that she wouldn't succeed, we have to consider how someone might take the fact that she spent a large amount of time in a mental institution and is claiming that forcing this procedure would cause her mental distress."

"The fact that she has the mental history that she has should tell everyone that she isn't capable of having a child!"

"We can't make the call yet. Either we need to speak to her current psychiatrist, or you have to find one to speak to her and assure me that we can move forward with this."

"She should have died, when she tried," Rhadja said.

"Rhadja!" Champ snapped.

"What kind of life do you think she'll have? She was _almost_ free to live again. Now, she's holding on for dear life to this fetus that a real life white supremacist planted inside of her, probably coercively, I don't care what anyone says. That institution is going to be a pile of rubble when I'm done with it. They've already ruined our daughter beyond repair. Repair that they were supposed to give her."

"Look… Maybe we can appeal to the boy and _he_ can convince her to do it. We'll reach out to him and let him speak to her about it. He's gotta know that this isn't what he wants. Some half and half out there in the world, bearing his name and bloodline?"

"Your mother is fine with it," Rhadja said.

"Is this really the time?"  
"When else? You kept that horrid white woman in our daughter's life and now she's going to have a baby for an equally horrid white man!"

" _You've_ been horrible to her. All of this can easily be traced back to her relationship with HER mother, not her relationship with mine!"

"You would blame me, just like mama taught you. We black girls are never about anything good…"

"Ummm… I hate to get in the middle, but you should both really take into consideration not exposing your daughter to this. What she needs is support and love. If you can show her _that,_ perhaps you'll be able to convince her that an abortion is what's best for her."

Champ smirked at Rhadja, "Would you like to try that?" They stared at each other. "Didn't think so…" he walked out.

"He's acting like this is _all_ my fault. Maybe I was hard on her and MAYBE I was ashamed of her, but you think he ever stood up to me about it? The only reason he's got a fire lit under his ass is because his baby girl had sex. Little does he know, she'd done that before. I knew. I knew everything. She used to tell me everything, but whenever she tried to kill herself, I felt betrayed. I felt like she was attacking my work. I overreacted, then I was too embarrassed to admit that I was wrong. I let her stay in that place to avoid having to deal with it. It was supposed to be a safe place for her. What happens to her, now?"

"Okay. Well, hopefully whatever is best for her is what happens."

.

Cheerio was pacing around her room, in a fuzzy pair of toe socks, so physically comfortable, but mentally distressed, surrounded by her trophies and medals, and photos and fanfare. Whenever the door opened, she turned frantically and stared at her father, entering the room with a tray, with her meal on it. She wasn't eating it though. She knew that they probably weren't above giving her something to make her lose her baby. She slapped the tray out of his hand and spilled the food and drink everywhere. Then, she folded her arms and stared at him.

He asked the maid to pick it up and send for something that she could open herself. Cheerio immediately felt guilty and began to help the maid pick up her mess, despite the woman repeating that she didn't have to do that. Champ started the conversation, "Sorry about how we pulled you out of that place."

"And not about how you left me there for two years without any sign of caring what was going on?"

"We knew that you weren't better. We were contacted each time that you made an attempt, or had a relapse, or showed signs of decline."

"And you figured, let's _not_ support her through all of this."

"It's just that it was really painful for us to be so far away from you, but we did what we thought was best. To find out that they allowed that boy to violate you…"

"I didn't get violated, Champ."

"None of that, today. It's your dad. You can tell me anything."

"Okay. I hate Rhadja right now, and you need to back me up on this situation!"

"Why, Honey? Can you get Daddy to understand what makes you feel like this situation is something that we should support?"

"Because, Corn… Stevie convinced me that if this happens, I am gonna be a terrific mother. I'm loving. I care about people. I want what's best for others. I'm nurturing, supportive, protective, and I have a chance to be everything to this baby that I failed being to you and Rhadja. I have a chance to give this baby everything that you and her failed giving me. It is a huge goal for my future."

The maid came back with some bottles of Ensure, promising to send someone shopping for something else immediately. When she left, Cheri finished her remarks, "I'm almost three months along. I've had that much time to decide that I wanted this and that I needed to see this happen, and I've had that much time to believe in myself - to believe that I can do this and do it well. It gave me a purpose, again. I'm not going to be an olympian. I won't star on a dance series or open my own dance studio. I won't be famous or successful like you and her, but I will be the best mother that my imaginative brain can ever think up! I need you to believe that. If you take this away from me, I won't fail my next attempt. I'll slit my wrists, drink poison and jump into a lake, in that order."

He brought her to the institution to pick up her things, but she wasn't allowed to see Stevie. Just as well, because he was sedated and probably having a terrible time of it. She asked Nurse Sandy to get her on the visitors list for him, but Champ told her that they were suing the place and it couldn't happen. Sandy looked so worried at that thought, but put her on the list, just in case.

.

Rhadja had other plans. She picked Cheri up from school and had the driver take them back to the institution. "I won't tell Champ, if you don't. You should at least have a chance to say goodbye to him," she said. Cheri got out of the car and went into the building, but the staring made her uncomfortable and she turned around and rushed back into the car. "What's wrong, Cheri?"

"I couldn't go in by myself. It felt like they were all judging me," she said.

"Judging you? Oh, Darling… If those crazy people in there judging you bothers you, how on Earth do you expect to tackle all of the judgement that would come from being seen with that boy's baby?"

It didn't go the way that Rhadja expected, because Cheri nodded her head and said, "You're right! Thank you, Rhadja. You always know how to push me." She got out of the car, went right up to the desk and said, "Hi. I'm here to see Stevie Evans." They stared at her, oddly. She sighed and shook her head, "Sandy, you know that I'm not the one that is making it hard for y'all. I just want to tell him that I still love him."

"Mr. Evans is no longer with us," she told her.

Cheri held herself, "He died?"

"No… He was taken to a different facility, after the concerns arose. We aren't allowed to say anything further and have been instructed to call the police if we see you here."

Cheri nodded her head and left. When she got back into the car, she was crying. Rhadja offered her a shoulder, "Did it not go well?" She asked.

"Did you do this? Did you somehow orchestrate this?"

"Darling, if I would have orchestrated anything, it would be the castration and beheading of that trash. Why? What happened?"

"He's been moved, and they won't tell me where and they threatened to call the cops on me just for walking in." She began wailing.

"I didn't teach you to cry like this, and don't for one moment blame hormones. You're unstable because you should be on medication, and you haven't been taking them. Listen, Mother is in full support of you having a family someday. But, right now, you need your meds, you need to finish school, and you need to find out your new path in life."

Cheri sat up and gave the driver an address. "No, I need to figure out where they brought Stevie."

Rhadja remained in the car when Cheri practically jumped out at Pieces of Mercy. She got on her phone as her daughter went inside, "Champion, I just brought our daughter to a place called Pieces of Mercy, an antique and gift shop. She thinks she'll be able to find him through someone here."

"Don't keep doing this."

"You're plan wasn't working. That boy doesn't want to see _anyone_ but her and he's never going to tell her to get rid of that baby. _I_ need to get to him. You and I both know that I can be very persuasive. He's a fucking psychopathic loser. How hard do you think it would be for me to get inside of his head?"

"That's not what I'm worried about. I'm worried about us losing Cheri forever. She was supposed to be coming home. All that she wants is to have a baby."

"This was a courtesy call. If you think that you can get to her through tea parties and Daddy's Little Girl sentiments, try your hand. But, we are getting too near the point of no return and I need to do whatever it takes to make something happen now."

.

Cheri went into the building, nervously and hoped to see Stacie or Miss… Blind Bombshell… She really couldn't remember if Stevie ever called her by name (usually just 'my sister-in-law', which she found odd, because they technically weren't married yet and…) _There she is!_ Cheri went over to her while she was rubbing on some book pages and said softly, "Excuse me, you don't know me, but…"

"I know you," Mercedes said. "Cheerio, right?" She asked, smiling in her general direction. "I heard that you were released! How are you?"

Cheerio sighed, "Not well. Stevie was moved. I'm not allowed to know where. I was just wondering if he's okay, and hoping that someone would get a message to him."

"Have a seat," Mercedes said, as she shut her book. "All that we know right now is that the courts ordered that Stevie be relocated to a different facility. It's actually a little bit further away, but apparently there is some kind of legal action taking place with the institution and they can't keep Stevie there anymore. He definitely wants to see you. Stacie says that all he does whenever she's tried to visit is to say that he wants to see you. But, she didn't know how to contact you."

"Is she here?" Cheri asked, so hopeful.

"I can call her and get her here," she said, reaching for her phone.

By the time Stacie arrived, Rhadja had gotten out of the car and was wandering around the shop, waiting for Cheri to finish her meeting. Stacie rushed over to the table and said, "Cheerio!" They hugged each other and Stacie looked down at her belly and nodded, "This makes so much sense, now."

Cheri touched her bump and said, "Everybody found out and ripped up our family. My parents dragged me out, literally kicking and screaming, Stevie barely had a chance to ask what was happening before the orderlies restrained him and put him under. That was the last that I saw him. The last that he saw of me was me being carried out of the place by my dad. My parents have gotten several staff members fired, and they have a lot of lawsuits against them."

"For not noticing that you were pregnant?" Stacie asked. Mercedes' head jolted at that new information, but she didn't say anything.

"I don't know any of the legal terminology. Something about failing to provide protection, neglect, maybe, sexual abuse, some other stuff. For letting me and Stevie out of their sight long enough and regularly enough for it to happen, and I recently found out that some of those times may have been recorded or at the very least observed on surveillance cameras, so they're moving forward with child pornography, sexual misconduct with a child, maybe… I just… I just wanna see Cornflake and tell him it's all okay."

Stacie sighed and nodded, "He could really use that. Let's exchange contact info, so that we can make plans, okay?"

After Cheri and her mother left the shop Stacie turned to Mercedes and commented, "Stevie calling out to see his baby."

"Literal baby."

"Not Cheerio."

"He also said Cheerio."

"This is going to be messy."

"I think we need to contact the lawyer, too."


	27. That's Why I Need You to Hear

**That's Why I Need You to Hear**

Rhadja sat alone at one of the country club patio tables with her pad, nursing one of the most expensive salads in the world, when a stranger approached the table. She didn't even glance his way as she said, "I don't need anything. Thank you."

"I think you _could_ use something," he said and set a drive on the table. "I know someone who was inside of that place, with your daughter. This is something that was given to me. It's gonna interest you."

Rhadja would have told him to beat it, but the mention of Cheri being in _that place_ would always be enough for her to lend an ear. Her face alerted when he even mentioned it. People weren't supposed to know that, and if they did, she felt obligated to figure out what it was all about. She put the drive into her pad and was met by images of her daughter being ravaged by that _boy._ She tried to scan through it, but it just appeared that it was filled with _various_ sexual encounters between Cheri and Stevie. There must have been hours of it!

" _Bite me," he told her. She laughed, but he pushed her face to his neck with his free hand and she followed his instructions. "Harder, please."_

 _She backed her head away and wondered, "Why? Do you like that, or do you think that I do? Would I like it?" He proceded to get rougher and rougher with her until she bit him and he was satisfied with that..._

"Where did you get this?" Rhasja asked, slamming a finger to stop it.

"Mrs. Robinson, I hate Steven Evans. This footage will be shared with the world, one way or another. I'm giving you a chance to use it for _your_ needs. Some of the scenes are pretty rough…" He scrolled to a particular scene, "I'm positive that could be a rape. The way he has her pinned, and how hard he's pounding… even if he doesn't face charges, you might get a better chance of getting the half-breed aborted. If she was in distress when impregnated..."

"Thank you, but I have the best lawyers in the state. We'll manage."

"Keep it, just in case.. And if you ever need to see about some less fancy remedies, this is how to reach me." He placed a card with a phone number on the table. "I wish you the best." She watched him leave, and knew that she recognized him from somewhere, but wasn't sure where.

If he said that he hated Stevie Evans, she knew that he was probably someone from his life before the institution. She would have her people look into this. In the meantime, she called her lawyer about the anonymous proof that she had been given.

Max Giardi walked away from the table, ready to go home and trim his facial hair, as well as wash out the temporary black dye he put in it and in his hair to look less recognizable, in case she recalled him..

.

Stevie's entire face changed when he saw Cheerio walk into the room. He was convinced that he would never see her again and tried to resign himself to the fact that was his judgment - for all of the evil that he had put out into the world. But, there she was… His goddess. His salvation. She rushed over and threw her arms around him and he started crying. "Is this real?" He asked. She gave him a long, passionate kiss on the lips to prove it was. "I thought that I was never gonna be able to see you again," he said, with tears in his eyes. "I've been so… lost without you." He was shaking. She hated seeing him this way and felt like it was all her fault. Maybe, she shouldn't have always rushed to give him affection and attention every time something went wrong. Now, she wasn't able to, and he was… lost, according to him, and that's exactly how he looked.

"I would never abandon you. It would take more than my parents to keep me from you. Only person that ever could is you, and you'd have a fight on your hands if you tried."

He laughed, uncomfortably. "I'm over being that kinda stupid." She smiled at his confession. He was quiet for a while. "Did you tell your parents that I attacked you?" He asked softly, but he looked like it had been the hardest thing he ever asked anyone.

"No! I'd never do that to you, Cornflake."

"Do… Did you _feel_ like I attacked you?"

"No." She said it firmly, looking right into his eyes. Stevie knew that she wasn't interested in being sexual with him at first, but he'd fucked with her mind so much and made her feel as confused as he did, to the point that he'd spent weeks wondering… _Did she even want me?_ In his mind, she was enjoying going back to her old life of wealth and comfort, not ready or willing to spawn his baby, and telling every dirty detail of how this redneck raggamuffin manipulated and assaulted her...

He still looked bothered, so she tried to change the subject to more positive news. "So far, Rhadja can't make me have an abortion and she's just about out of time of being able to legally get me one!" She smiled and reached into the pink bunny shaped bag that she had with her. "And, I know what kinda parts Cowbaby is gonna be born with." She showed him an ultrasound photo, "This is your copy, if you want?"

He reached out, with a shaky hand and accepted it, then stared at it, until he noticed that he was no longer shaking. He was calm, and just staring at the photo. This baby, without even being here yet had just brought him a sense of relaxation that he hadn't felt in a while. "What is it?" He wondered, softly.

"It's a Cow _boy._ " Stevie nodded and set the photo down. "You wanted a girl."

"Raising a black boy makes me nervous. I hear that they need a black man's help. I don't even know a black man, and if I did, he'd probably hate me…" He scoffed, "The fuck am I on about, I'm never getting out of here. I'm a murderer with a statutory rape case possibly on the horizon, and very likely rape charges, as well. Molestation, sex with a minor. Something to that effect. I'm going to spend all of Cowboy's life in here." He took the photo and kissed it, then held it to his heart. "I won't be able to let him know that I changed from whatever he hears about me from research."

"What are you even talking about?"

"Holly says that your mom is talking to judges and has a strong legal team to try to get me prosecuted, and her lawyers are talking trying to get me in prison."

"That's not how the legal system even works, Cornflake."

"How it works is that rich people have enough reach to get it to work however they want it to."

"No! That's _not_ how it works. She can't press charges on you on my behalf. I would have to say that you harmed me and we both know that I never will."

"You're a minor. The state can do it."

"Well… They'd have to prove it. I mean, they can maybe prove through paternity of Cowboy…" She frowned… "Should… I consider… Maybe…"

"No! He's gonna be the only thing that we both have together. I don't care what happens to me, as long as y'all two are okay."

She reached across the table and touched his hand. He took hers into both of his and cradled it needfully. "Nothing is gonna happen to you. I don't care how hard we have to fight, I'll be in your corner every round. Rhadja doesn't get to step into the picture now and take everything away from me! Nobody gets to say that me and you aren't gonna do it all." He rolled his eyes. "I know how unrealistic it sounds and how much you love to rationalize, but I also know that you're a very emotional person. Tell me that you can't feel this… destiny between us."

He whispered, "I can. I feel like I was meant to love you. It's the only thing in my life that has ever made complete sense and given me complete peace."

"Then trust me when I tell you, I have always felt this destiny between us, so the thought of ever going in another direction won't ever cross my mind. Cowboy is a member of your family and he binds me to you, even if I didn't feel that way."

"You're my family, too, Cheerio." He kissed her hand and continued to cup it with both of his. "I love you… You and Cowboy." He smiled, "He's gonna have it alright. You were made to be a mom."

"I don't know how to feel about that."

"I just mean you're extremely nurturing." He sobbed, "I miss you, so much."

"I'm gonna see you as frequently as I can, and whenever Cowboy is born… the three of us, _we're_ gonna be a family." He looked shocked at her saying that, and she reflexively felt like she had went too far, pulled her hand to herself and quickly said, "Sorry. I'm getting ahead of myself. We'll just be friends with a baby until you promise me otherwise, if that ever happens. I know you don't care about marriage and you're probably still kinda reluctant about being a dad…"

"No. I want to be a family. You're the perfect person to have a family with."

She smiled brightly and he was grateful. He needed that. He needed her. "I just… You really don't feel like I forced you? Like I made you…"

"Look…" she pulled out a partially used notepad. "This is the pad that I've been f

confiding in, almost from the very moment that they pried us away from each other. It tells a detailed account of everything that I've thought and felt since the last time I saw you. You know how good I am about writing down things as they happened, or more accurately, about writing them down as I understand them at the time. It's all here. You read this and tell me that I feel like I was forced."

"I don't have time. These visits are short."

"Keep it. And you can write down anything that you want to tell me. Whenever I come back, I'll switch pads with you. We'll have a couple in rotation and never have to truly miss anything that the other is going through."

"I'm not like you. I don't write everything down. Sometimes, I can't even focus enough to hold a pen."

"Keep it, just in case." She handed him a pen and he smiled, a sad, pitiful smile and began to write. She read upside down, th0ugh she was trying to play it off. _You came to see me today. I feel like I can make it, now that I've seen your face._

.

Rhadja sent Stevie letters, asking that he meet with her, but Holly had warned him that he shouldn't say anything to her without a lawyer present, just in case she was up to something. Cheerio assured him that she most definitely was, so he avoided her requests to visit. He actually felt bad about it. Here was this woman - a shitty mother, no doubt, but he believed that she probably did love Cheerio, in some weird warped way. After all, he believed that Mary loved him and their family. Sometimes, people were just terrible people, but still capable of very valid feelings of love. He didn't extend very much understanding to her, because as the person who had hurt Cheerio the most in this world, he would always resent her for hurting his… his _Cherie amore._ Stevie sang to himself as he pulled out the pad to go see Cheerio, "La, la, la, la, la, la. La, la, la, la, la, la…"

He simply ignored the letters and kept up the visits with Cheerio, where she either told him about school, got him to help her with school work, or they gushed over new news of the baby.

When Cowboy became viable, Rhadja looked into adoption agencies for Cheerio. Champ seemed resigned to just ignore the constant bickering between his wife and daughter, frequently just purchasing new things for each of them after one of their multiple fights and retreating to his man cave.

At first, to not argue, Cheerio would take the information that she was given and set it aside in her room, never looking at it. After a while, Rhadja began to double-check with her about adoption options and question her about them. She never knew, because she never checked. That came to a head after Stevie began receiving adoption information in the mail and confronted Cheri about it.

"Are you putting him up for adoption? Because, I don't know if I could take that - him being out there somewhere, a part of you and a part of me, and we've left him in the wild. _At least_ let Stacie take him. She'll make sure that I see him…"

"First of all, you didn't even let me answer the question, and the answer is hell no, I'm not going through all of this to put Cowboy up for adoption. Is your therapy going poorly?"

He sighed, rubbed his temples and said, "I keep getting adoption shit in the mail. It's really fucking with me. You tell me one thing, then…"

"Why would I lie to you?"

"So that I won't freak out!"

"You think that I would think that you _wouldn't_ freak out if I put our baby up for adoption behind your back? Honestly… WHAT kind of therapy are you in?"

"For your information, I've told Sister Mary Constance _everything!"_

She sat there for a while blinking, then asked, "Told who?"

"My psychiatrist is a nun. She can give people secular and spiritual therapy."

"You hate religion."

"She's a real psychiatrist. She's _also_ a nun. That's not the point. Why am I getting these papers? I've talked to Holly. I don't want to fight, but I would have to, if you try to give Cowboy up for adoption…"

"I'm not giving Cowboy up for adoption!" She yelled.

.

"I'm not giving Cowboy up for adoption," Cheerio said, tossing the information that Rhadja left with her directly into the trash in front of the woman. "I told you that I wasn't getting an abortion and I was able to wait it out and I'll do whatever I have to do to not put him up for adoption, too."

"Well, if that's the case, you'll need to find somewhere else to put him, because you're not going to be allowed to remain here as long as you're determined to keep this child of Stevie Evans." Rhadja said, frustrated that she could no longer control Cheri.

Back in the day, all she had to do was throw her a green eyed look and Cheri would quickly assess her situation and do whatever it was that she knew Rhadja wanted. She didn't know this girl in front of her, but she knew that she'd have to break her if she wanted her obedient daughter back…

Cheri sighed. Her mother had given her hell. She had two years of therapy to work through it and she was well enough to face her months ago. The woman was never going to allow her to do and be what was best for herself, so if it had to be _this_ way, so be it. "Okay. Can I pack my things or do I just get the clothes on my back?"

"Take whatever you want," Rhadja said, trying to call Cheri's bluff, "But if you expect to come back, don't plan on doing it without signing him away. You won't be allowed to come back if you want to keep that child."

"I won't be back," Cheerio told her and went to pack her things. She had no idea where she was going to go. She wondered how long it would take her father to cut off her credit card, but took a chance on calling a cab to take her to the country club. She was going to try to enjoy one last spa trip before her parents shut down forever. Plus, she wanted people to see her baby bump at the country club and basically to shame Rhadja, as best as she could with it.

She was able to get in, so they hadn't dropped her, she guessed… After all this time. She signed up for a pregnancy spa package and the attendant looked surprised and confused at it, until he noted her little bump. "I didn't even realize that you were…"

"Yep!" she cheered.

"I thought you were my age. Don't you go to McKinley?" he asked.

She looked at his nametag, "Yes, Jake. I do. You've seen me around there?"

"Yeah, of course," he said and blushed slightly. "Your pretty face is hard to miss. But, I didn't know that you come here. I usually know all the kids from school that come to this place. They like to try to remind me in school settings that I have to pick up their musty, sweaty towels on the weekends."

"That sucks. People here are trash. I'm actually…" She realized that she had not really spoken to anybody about this, and now that she had breached the doorway couldn't seem to stop herself from the word vomit, "Haven't been here in a couple of years. I was sent away and I couldn't come. Probably won't be able to come back after this. I don't even currently have a home. My parents both disapprove of my life choices and my mom put me out tonight. I don't know if my dad just doesn't know or doesn't care, or if he'll come home, find me gone and actually try to get me back. I don't know if anybody wants me. My baby's father is locked up and he's doubtful about things working out because my parents hate him and my mom has been tormenting him. He'll probably resent me for ever having to know her. To be honest, this baby is all that I can have faith in right now." She sniffled. "Sorry, I don't know why I'm telling you all this."

"I have a nice face," he said and smiled, sympathetically.

She laughed. "Not a humble disposition, though."

"Not in particular. I know I'm the shit." He gave her some tissues. "Well, if you ever need a friend, I do have two fully functional ears and a heart to receive words without issuing out judgment." He pulled out his cell phone and asked, "What's your number? I'll call you and that way, whenever you're figuring things out, you can call on me to see if I can help with anything."

"You're a stranger," she commented.

"Sure, _now_. But, that's usually settled via phone and talks."

"I'm _with_ my baby's father," she said.

"Wow. I'm… not hitting on you, pregnant little princess, but I can take a hint," he said and put his phone away. "I don't feel entitled to your number. I should have been less pushy. I'll show you the first room of your spa experience and make sure that your bags are taken care of."

"Thank you," she said, embarrassed of how she had handled that. Talking to new people was hard enough, but new normies, out in the world? She _never_ knew just what to say, and they usually wound up done with her after a short time. "Um, if I haven't super messed up the chance to have a new friend, I do wanna give you my number…" He looked reluctant. "Sorry. You don't have to. Nevermind." He gave her his phone, "Here, put it in for me. I'm gonna go grab your bags."

.

She enjoyed the experience, and completed it, too. She was seated alone, much like her mother always had with an expensive salad, when one of the managers of the club approached her and asked her to come with him. She cleared her throat and finished her salad before even making an attempt to get up. The manager waved to a couple of workers to grab her things and she smiled understandingly at them. They were just doing their job, and many of the people who worked here were folk who either could never afford to play here, or people who were part of the community and did this to throw a job on a resume. She didn't know them, so they probably weren't part of the community.

The manager escorted her to the gate, explaining that her parents had alerted them that she was not authorized to use their membership, that they would pay for whatever she had already racked up but from that moment on, she could not utilize anything with their membership. So, she sat outside of the gate, trying not to cry, though the hormones were very persistent about her doing just that. Eventually, Jake came by in his truck and asked, "How long have you been out here?"

"They kicked me out around sunrise," she said. "I don't know if my parents have cut off my credit cards and I'm afraid to call a cab, in case they have…" She sobbed and Jake parked the truck and rushed to pick up her luggage. "Oh God, am I being robbed on top of this?"

"You always openly accuse people of robbing you? You gotta work on your tact, Ms. Robinson."

"No. Don't even call me that. I don't want any of it. It's just Cheri." She wanted to say Cheerio, but hell - she didn't even have a home, so returning to cheerleading glory was kinda on hold.

"I made some chili for my mom and I. There's enough to share. You can shower and rest on the couch, instead of in this brisk November air, maybe call to see if your cards are good, and if not… I'm sure my mom will think of something we can do to help out. It's like almost Thanksgiving." She stood up and cried some more as he helped her into the truck. When he got back inside, he told her, "Hey, it's gonna be okay."

.

Jake's mom was very gracious, even though she looked tired and had admitted to working a 16 hour shift, mostly on her feet. (She was trying to get tips for the upcoming holidays).

"So… You waitress. Does that pay a lot?" Cheri asked, eager to try to get something she could do.

"You see this shoebox house?" the woman asked and laughed, "No. It doesn't pay a lot, but if you can chat people up, entertain them, make them feel good and provide service to them, you usually can get by on the tips. Are you 18?"

"16."

"Emancipated?"

"Soon."

"I can try to see if I can set you up with something at the diner."

"Thank you Mrs. Puckerman, and thank you for letting me come into your home."

Cheri called her credit card companies and discovered that her emergency card that she had from whenever she was inside was still active. She called for a cab to bring her to Pieces of Mercy. She just felt bad about using up Mrs. Puckerman's things and didn't feel comfortable wearing out her welcome when the woman was obviously tired. Whenever she reached the shop, they were closed. She leaned her forehead against the window, held her belly and began crying. What was she going to do? She had nowhere to go, and she had just wasted money that would vanish quickly already on a trip. Her eyes were closed, so she didn't see when the woman approached the glass from the other side and tapped on it. She jumped, startled and held her chest.

But, Stacie was already coming up to the door as a pretty Latina woman told her that they were closed. _Stacie!_ Stacie and Santana spoke briefly, then Stacie opened the door. "Cheerio, what are you doing here?"

She immediately began crying again, "Rhadja kicked me out of the house, then they had me booted out of the country club. A boy from school said I could stay there, but it just didn't feel right. I don't know what to do!"

Stacie nodded her head, "Okay. Well, let's start with cleaning up your face…" She gently led her to the bathroom and told her, "And I'll do whatever you can't. We'll figure it out, together."

"I was so happy about being a mom. Now, I feel so stupid. How can I take care of a baby when I can't take care of myself?"

"By learning to do both, and you're a smart girl. I know that you can do it. You'll just need a little help, and I promise you - you've already got a lot of it in me. You believe me, don't ya?" Cheri shrugged her shoulders and placed her hands on her belly, then gasped. "What is it?" Stacie asked, worried, studying her belly with her hands out, but careful not to touch her.

"He kicked!" She said, excited.

Stacie's eyes gleamed, "May I?" Cheri nodded and Stacie placed her hand next to Cheri's. It took a while of them awkwardly holding her belly in silence, and just when Cheri was about to announce that she must have made a mistake, it happened again. She and Stacie both squealed and smiled at each other. Cheri looked totally different than she had looked a moment before. She was glowing and seemed hopeful again as she traced her bump, smiling at it with renewed love in her bright eyes. Stacie said, "Let's get you home, settled in and laying down. You look tired. You need rest."

"I feel like these weeks that I've been with my parents have literally sucked out my lifeforce. Like, I've been surviving on fumes, inside of a shell…"

Stacie wrapped an arm around her and said, "That's definitely over." She loaded Stevie's gal and her things into the truck, sent her family a group text and got into the driver's seat. "Do you have everything that you need?"

"I didn't get to pack too much, because I was scared to lift too heavy things, but my mother said that I could take whatever I wanted."

"We'll go there and make sure you've got everything you need, then - Daddy's house. It's very comfortable, and we'll fix the guest room up for you."

"I'm sorry to impose…"

"Don't. You're family, Cheerio. You and…"

"Cowboy. Cornflake and I have been calling him Cowboy."

"Cowboy. Y'all will always be welcome and safe with me. No need for apologies."


	28. I've Found a Reason for Me

_I wanted to release a chapter of this story around this time because it's such an important Steerio time of year. Cheri's birthday, their anniversary, and Valentines' Day are all within a few days. And we know that Cheri and Stevie really pretty much confirmed their feelings around a Cheerio birthday (Feb. 18). I WANTED to give some fluff, but there's just not much for them around this place in the story. Sorry, Sweetiedee._ :( _And my apologies also that it took me so long to retrace my DYSWES steps for details. I care about my consistency, even though I do have mess ups through this series. Some of the stuff was just too spaced out and had seen too many bouts with depression and anxiety to retain as much continuity as I wanted to._

 **I've Found A Reason For Me**

Days went by without Cheri finding a job. Mercedes kindly offered her one, but she already felt like she was taking advantage of Stevie's family and that woman wasn't even married in yet, and also was literally blind. It just felt wrong. She knew that she had no work skills and that she would have to stop working for a while in a few months. It seemed like the kind of thing that you did to some dump, not to somebody that you cared about. Cheri didn't _care_ about her, but she cared about her. Mercedes explained to her that because her situation was so delicate was exactly the reason that she should come to work for her. "My team is good. They'll give you everything that you need to do the job and they'll be empathetic to your special needs during this time."

She had to eventually do it. The job was fine. There was a colorful (in every sense of the word), collective of women who gave her life in different ways, and Stacie was generally nearby. The first time that Jake brought her there after school, he said, "So, this is it, huh? Pieces of Mercy."

Cheri threw him a weird look and said, "Yeah… You said that so oddly."

"Honestly, I don't know how to feel. This place meant a lot to somebody that I knew. Somebody that's no longer with me." She stared awkwardly at her belly and didn't know if she should get out of the truck, ask him about what he was talking about, wait for him to say more… "Did you ever read that book by Sam Evans, the Free Nazi?" She winced a little, unsure of where this was going, but knowing that she didn't like it as she nodded. "Well, my brother was in that book. My half brother. We knew about each other for a while, but only met a few years ago. We met, we bonded, then he was murdered…"

"Jesus! What?"

"They say that he killed one of those higher up Nazis and was poisoned, but I just don't know. Nobody that knew him well seems to think that he was capable of murder and he didn't even know that guy like that."

"Are you… Are you talking about that Jewish guy?"

"Noah. His name was Noah," he said, kind of short.

"Sorry."

"No… I didn't mean to snap. I don't trust Sam Evans. I don't think his story is true. And this building is run by somebody close to him, somebody that was supposed to be close to my brother and I just don't see how she would side with some racist and let Noah's legacy be tarnished."

Cheri sucked in air and tried to blow it out slowly, but she felt like she might hyperventilate. "Cheri, you okay?"

She shook her head and tears started falling as she opened the truck door and tried to get out, forgetting her seatbelt and just being yanked back."Can't breathe!"

Jake rushed out of the truck to her side to help her get out and she held herself. "Hey… What can I do? Can I do anything?"

"I'm so sorry…" She said. "My God, I thought that I might be able to be stronger when stuff like this happened, but I am obviously not gonna be good at this."

"Stuff like what? What's happened?" He was panicking and worried about her baby.

"Sam is… Stevie's brother," she said and shut her eyes.

"Stevie Evans. Yeah. I read all about them."

Her eyes opened and she hugged herself, "Stevie is Cowboy's dad," she practically whispered. Jake temporarily looked absolutely disgusted, but she could tell that he was trying to process and accept at the same time. Neither could have been easy for him. He had been helping her out for weeks. He was practically the only person she hung out with at school, and she spoke of Stevie and Cowboy frequently. He had been receptive to her, just as he'd said in the beginning.

"Cornflake is Stevie Evans. Well… That's…" He nodded his head, shut the door of his truck and then shook his head, "Help me understand this. Why, him? Why Sam Evans? Why Stevie Evans? What is it about them that two otherwise very well put together black women would… do anything with them, especially babies and" he waved a hand towards the store, "Marriage. Why these _Nazis_?"

"Well, reading the book, is all I can cite to speak for her, but he and Miss Babydoll - they fell in love. And I did, too. I mean… I'm not very well put together, but he seems to love me anyway."

"How did you even come across him? He's been in an institution for… Oh my God, you were in that institution!" He covered his mouth, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to say it like that. It was more realization than judgment. You've vaguely mentioned being away and things being different when you came home. I'd just presumed you were at boarding school or an out of state relative's. Are you… okay, now?"

"What, aside from being preggo for a Nazi?" She asked.

"Obviously, aside from that terrible mistake."

"My baby isn't a mistake."

"No. I didn't mean that. Look… My dad isn't worth shit. For my mom, he was definitely a mistake. That doesn't mean that I feel like I was a mistake, but come on. You think it was a good decision? To get impregnated by that guy? From the family in that story?"

"I hardly know that guy, Jake. Stevie is a complete asshole, sometimes. But, a lot of it was him just being wounded. That family hurt him, a lot. He made many mistakes. He did terrible things. But, how do you know that instead of this being my mistake that it isn't his step in the right direction?"

"Honestly, I don't think that I care."

She nodded, "It's okay. You won't be the first friend I've lost behind him." She started to walk off, but Jake gently caught her arm.

"Cheri, I'm not saying that I don't fuck with you.. But, I have to tell you… I'm concerned. He's only been away from that life for what? A couple of years? You think that man was able to change up like his brother allegedly has, in that time?"

"Certainly not. He still says and does extremely offensive and awful things. But, I do think that man loves me, and I think he'll love our baby. And for right now, that has to be good enough for me, Jake. Because I don't have _anything_ else going for me. I am an unwed, pregnant teenage black girl recently released from a mental institution, in white and milquetoast Lima, OH with a racist babydaddy and a rich mother who wants to ruin anything I have that didn't come from her. If I can't have my family, if this dream is just another disappointment, why did all of my suicide attempts fail? Why didn't God or the universe, or whoever just let me go? Was I born to suffer? To lose? I _have_ to believe that there is something good out there for me, and I have to start my hope with what I already have." She was crying. "I've lost hope too many times and me nor Cowboy will survive if I lose it again!"

"Hey…" He said gently and pulled her into the first hug that he had ever given her. "Nothing like that. I'm sorry. I was insensitive. You're allowed to love whoever. I just have come to care about you really quickly. I don't want to see you hurt and I know too well how easy that happens to people who get involved with these people." She cried on his shirt and snotted all over it, for good measure.

"I'm gonna be fine. No… I'm gonna be _good._ Cowboy is bridging together two lives that nobody saw value in. He's making two throwaway kids better people. He's meant to be here and if he is, I'm meant to be his mom and Stevie, his dad."

"Okay. Okay."

She looked at her cell phone and said, "I'm late for work. See you at school."

"Yeah… Sorry…" He got back into his truck and rested his head on the steering wheel, unable to drive, just yet.

Whenever Cheri came in, apologizing and still sniffling, Stacie rushed over to her, "What's wrong? Who was that?"

"That was Jake," she said.

"Your only friend, Jake. What happened? Why are you crying?"

She sighed, "I just had a very small dosage of what my life might be like for a while. Apparently, Jake is Noah's brother…"

Santana turned around quickly and wondered, "You mean Puck?"

"Jake Puckerman," Cheri nodded. "I didn't put it together. They don't look alike and Jake's black. I mean, I knew his dad was white, but… Anyway. They were half siblings and before he realized that I knew Sam, he was… going on about him. Kinda like Stevie does, but with more controlled anger. He says he wasn't judging me, but I saw the look in his face when I told him about Stevie."

"Well, to hell with him!" Stacie fussed. "Just because his brother died, he gets to make you feel bad for being a part of our family? He's not the only one who lost somebody in that mess."

Mercedes, who was seated nearby gently said, "But, he's a kid. I mean, what 16? Do you know what an emotional wreck I was at that age?" She cleared her throat, then got up, "Excuse me…" She headed for the back room.

Santana squeezed Cheri's shoulder, "Her and Puck have a really rich history. I'll go check on her."

Cheri looked at Stacie, "Rich history?"

"They were in love before Sammy… Honestly, from some of the details that are muddled in conversation, they might have been when she met Sammy…"

"I'm ruining everyone's day!" Cheri said.

"No. You're just taking it that way because you're hormonal."

"And I'm supposed to be on three medications that I don't take because…" She cried.

Becky walked up and whispered to Stacie, "Why don't you take her home? I think we've got it handled." Becky didn't like when they brought their personal things out onto the floor. People still stopped by the store to gawk because of Sam Evans' book, and the less added drama, the better, as far as she was concerned. "Hope you feel better soon," she told Cheri, making it clear that her suggestion to leave was not up for discussion. Becky wasn't officially in a management position, but she knew her way around and was often left in charge or left alone to work, so whether or not she had the title, everyone recognized her as _that girl._ Even Santana occasionally took orders from her, when it was obvious that she knew the deal, and Lauren often highkey seriously joked that maybe Becky should be the assistant manager, instead of her. So, Stacie waved Cheri along with her to follow her to go get her things so that they could go. She also wanted to check in with Mercedes to see how she's doing.

"Mercy, Becky's sent us home so that we can get Cheerio gathered up and feeling better. Is there anything I can do for you before we hit the road, Sis?"

"Nothing for the shop, but if you can talk to Cheri about Jacob, for me… I'd really want to have the chance to meet him and try to see if there's anything that I can personally do to make him feel better. I know that I can't fix anything, but… I remember being told about him. I even met him! But, by the time Puck was killed and I was so enveloped in guilt, shame, general grief and trying to manage my heart after Puck's mom forbid me to come near her or his sister, along with convincing Sam that it wasn't because of my romantic past with Puck… I honestly didn't even reach out to that kid. I don't know what kind of comfort he had at that time. They have different moms and their father wasn't the comforting type. I just want to personally reach out to him, for once."

"I'll see," Cheri said, from the doorway.

.

Cheri _did_ set up a meeting with Jake and Mercedes. But, he'd asked her to come along, and be his emotional support. He had only gotten word of mouth about Mercedes - some from Puck, some from Puck's mom, some from his friend, Joe, and then all the things that he had read and interviews he'd seen. Even though the general consensus was that she was a wonderful person and that she loved his brother so much… The fact that she was with this Sam Evans was just a red flag to him. He could say the same thing about Cheri, but he felt too bad for her situation to be mad at her choices. Pregnant teen throwaway had to be hard enough, but the only people in her corner was her Nazi baby daddy and his family? That was more tragic to him than his mother being abandoned by her husband during her pregnancy, and just never divorcing him.

He knew that he also had the capacity to feel bad for Mercedes Jones, too. After all… She was a blind woman who had some mental health issues herself. Maybe, she was just as much of a victim of Sam Evans as Cheri was of Stevie Evans, as his mom was of Frank Puckerman… These men were simply trash and these women probably all needed a hero. Mercedes just selected the wrong one, maybe. It happened, even to the best of women and in his opinion… Definitely was likely to happen when black women went across the color lines. He didn't want to sound racist, but he couldn't help but feel like it was realistic, if in no other context, but in these specifically that there was some type of weird, race crime absolving attachments that these Evans bros had connected onto these black women and they were both so lonely or starved for love that they accepted these situations as real and true feelings. It wasn't his place to try to convince them of that. But, he did want to at least be able to connect with people who knew his brother that weren't the same three people with the same information, and unfortunately, that meant Evans bros' associations. He sighed.

Mercedes came with a blond woman that Jake knew to be the one Evans sister, but she stayed outside with the dogs and got a seat on the patio with a hot drink. Cheri came there with him and they had appetizers, because she was pregnant and he was , he felt like that was rude and had the staff clear the table of everything before Mercedes arrived, so that he could pretend that they hadn't had anything. Cheerio honestly was used to irrational requests by loved ones, so it didn't even really bother her to go along with that, even though she knew that Miss Mercy could care less if they ate something before she got there. That woman was so entangled in guilt and hurt that all she wanted was to touch Jake's face and vow to be his friend, in his brother's absence. Meanwhile, Cheri was having to wait on more of those goat cheese and tomato cups.

Fortunately, when Mercedes arrived, someone led her to the table and Cheri was able to ask, "Hey - can we get like three orders of those sun dried tomato and goat cheese cups that you all have here?" That person wasn't the waiter, but she knew that they always found whoever was working a section to avoid having to do it - which meant that "ordering" from someone else was just a good as having a bell to call the waiter. Mercedes took her seat and said, "You two _have to_ try their fruit fondue, so leave some room."

"Cowboy makes room every few minutes, I swear. I have no idea how I'm not as fat as a hippo with how much this boy has me eating," she chimed in, then felt bad, because Mercedes was on the heavy side and she didn't know if it was alright for somebody as thin as herself to say stuff about being big… Or if Mercedes cared, being that she couldn't even see… So, at that point, she just said, "Probably got something wrong with me. People still can't even tell that I'm pregnant unless I'm trying to show it."

"Well, it's cold outside," Jake reminded her. "Most of Ohio is bundled up. Cowboy could just as easily be a heavy coat to everyone…" He was staring at Mercedes for a reaction to hearing his voice. Puck's mom said that he and Jake sounded alike. If they did, she didn't react to hearing him speak. He simply introduced himself, "Hi, Mercedes, I'm Jacob Puckerman. It's nice to be able to meet you again..."

They had a nice conversation. They started out speaking in general about who they were and what they had going on in their individual lives and as Cheri excused herself to find a place to catch her breath as Cowboy kicked her relentlessly, they got into the subject of Puck.

"Listen… I knew Puck half of his life. I never would have wanted anything to ever happen to him, and I need you to believe that," Mercedes said.

Jake was relieved that she couldn't see the eyeroll that he gave her at these empty words. She shacked up with his enemy. She couldn't have been _that_ concerned about him. But, he gently and truthfully said, "Noah seemed to really love you, Ms. Jones. He never said a single thing against you."

"Maybe if he had a little more time, you'd have been able to get down to the nitty gritty of how he really felt."

"I think that I absolutely did. I mean, I was one of his most frequent calls in his last days. There was a lot to look forward to. I'm just sad, and maybe even angry that I didn't get a chance to, that _we_ didn't get a chance. I'm trying to connect with his little girl. He talked a lot about her, but her mom is very closed off. I know that you're friends, so I was hoping you might be able to help me to get my foot in the door, there."

Mercedes nodded her head, "Definitely."

Jake didn't have much else to say to her, so he began to ask her questions about the parts of Noah that he didn't know like, "What was his favorite soda?" _Wasn't a huge soda guy, but could murder a case of Surge by himself, back in the day._ "I always have been told that the two of you dated on and off. How sensitive was he about your disability and what kinds of things, if any did he do to accomodate you?" _He was one of the most sensitive people about me being blind. Sometimes, too much. He was extremely overprotective in a way that I was never sure was because of my blindness, because of my mental illness, or just his love language. I was around through him dating other people, but none of those relationships ever seemed to resemble ours. Some of the things that he did that I remember with fondness was to make me CDs of covers. CDs were these discs that people used to listen to… He'd sing the songs that reminded him of me and make me albums of them. He bought me gifts that appealed to my other senses, like perfume. He was a wonderful person and a great friend. We just weren't a good fit for romance, no matter how many times we kept forgetting that._

"Why not?" Now, she looked sad. She didn't want to say anything bad about Noah. She didn't want to use the words that she normally would to describe them, because those wouldn't bring Jacob any peace and it was unnecessary to hurt his feelings or tarnish Puck's memory from her own lips, to his face. "Is it because of what the stories say? That he was abusive? Toxic? Dangerous?"

"We didn't work together romantically," she said and forced a smile. "He was a beautiful human being and I forgave him any hurt he ever caused me and wished that I had the time to earn his forgiveness, as well."

"He never blamed you," Jake said. "He loved you, from what he told me." She smiled. "The kids at the center loved him so much that they created a memorial room for him, have you ever had the chance to experience that place, in your way?"

"I've gone into the room and I've experienced the energy of being told what it was. I touched a few things that I could make out, but most of it seems visual, so… I suppose I _can't_ really get a full experience." He nodded his head, but soon wrapped up the conversation, exchanged information with her and helped her outside to her ride, who Cheri had now settled with.

"Jake. You two were deep in convo, so I just came to chill with Stace…"

"It's fine. See you at school," he said and walked off.

Cheri frowned, "How did it go, Miss Mercedes?"

"It seemed like it went well," she said. But, Cheri wasn't used to Jake dismissing her like that. Then again, she barely knew the guy. He'd just been nice to her, probably because he felt sorry for her and now that he knew the family she was aligned with, maybe his feelings had changed. The three ladies prepared to go back to POM.

.

Visiting Stevie supplemented her happiness, since she had virtually no friends at school, except for the cheerleading coach, Coach Dystria. Whenever she ranted about her, Stevie was weird about it, but she figured that he probably just was uncomfortable trusting her not to try to do any two touches with Cowboy in tow. Stevie knew Candice Dystria and he'd mentioned how to Cheerio, but he'd never said her name, so… he couldn't be upset that she was close to her. Then again, why was she stationed in Lima, now? She was pretty prime property of the Foundation, from what he knew and this was not her post. Did they _know_ about Cheerio? Was she there to spy on her? To DO something to her? He was worried that if he told Cheerio, she couldn't play things off cool and would tip them off IF they didn't know about her. But, if Candy was simply working now, he didn't want to remove the only person that Cheerio adored at the school.

Since he was able to have a cell phone for certain hours in this home, he'd called Stacie to talk to her about it. "Hey… Did you know that Candy Dystria teaches at Cheerio's school?"

"WHAT? She's a freakin' child molester at a school filled with teenage boys?" Stacie repeated her version of what he'd just said.

"She's the cheerios coach and Cheri talks to her all of the time about being on the team after she has Cowboy. She's like a mentor to her or something."

"Well, we can't let that happen. She's gross and dangerous."

"But… She… Is she doing anything wrong? Maybe she's just working a gig."

"Stevie - you can't possibly believe that. The woman performs perverted acts with minors for a white supremacy group. I will never give her the benefit of the doubt. If anything, I'm going to assume the very worst, in this case being that she either knows who Cheerio is and is keeping an eye on her, for God knows what reason, or (probably this one, because we don't just go broadcasting you and Cheerio), she's at that school helping to prep young kids and bring them in. She's at that school to find boys like Sammy and you, to weaponize. To find girls like… Miss Fabray to objectify for those weapons."

Stevie took a deep breath and asked, "Do you think you would be able to prove any of that? I just don't want us to rush in ruining something for Cheerio, then not even being able to change the possible situation for the better for her."

"This isn't just about her, Stevie. Candice Dystria… if she's posted in that school for what I'm inclined to think…"

"Then she has a whole team, made of staff and students. And removing her would just bring more heat on our family for looking in to them. Maybe she's evaluating things post Schuester reign. That was one of his territories. Just… Protect my girl and my baby, if you can?"

"You know that I will, Steves. I look after them, like they're my own."

.

Jake had not been speaking to Cheri as much, though when he did, he was cordial enough. She felt like she had really messed up telling him about Cornflake. If she had just shut her mouth and pretended that she had no idea of his brother (which technically, she knew no facts, and none of the others seemed to have anything to tie them together). There was nothing there! Maybe he was embarrassed, because he'd been such a jerk for nothing? At any rate, she gave him his space and she just tried to live her life. It was a good time to focus on her grades, anyway. Winter break was soon and she wanted to do a bomb ass Christmas Maternity photoshoot skin to being a sexy Santa's helper and producing the gift of Cowboy. She was designing her photoshoot plans in her spare time. As far as she knew, Cornflake would LOVE it. She didn't want to worry Jake or bother him.

But, Jake wasn't very worried. He was simply working on an angle. Jake didn't trust anything that any of them said, but after a long conversation with his best friend/mom, he decided it was best not to treat people like he knew that they were if he didn't know how they might react to that. In other words, keep your enemies close. He spent a lot of time at the community center, in Puck's Memorial. He was making a voice recording describing every inch of the wall as clearly as possible. He started at the beginning and spent hours of several days going around the room to record the description. He spent hours of days editing the information on a computer at the country club. He spent a lot of time, and it would be obvious that he spent a lot of time, doing this thing for Mercedes Jones. And somewhere in that project (maybe because she was on the wall so much, in so much of Noah's past, in so much of Noah's memory), he reconsidered his emotions about her. Maybe she wasn't as bad as he was thinking. Maybe, like Noah seemed to believe, she was just as much of a victim of the Evans, of Sam Evans, as the wake of victims left in his path.

.

Stevie was definitely aware of all of the problems Cheerio was having out there, so whenever Mrs. Robinsons sent him letters, accusing him of helping to contribute to those as long as he ignored her, he felt a way. After all, Cheerio was like 5 months pregnant, virtually homeless, had no actual guardian, her "friends" were his family, her "job" was charity _at best,_ and he honestly didn't know HOW she was fairing with the financial responsibility of medical bills. So, whenever he read Rhadja Robinson's letter that if he agreed to meet with her, she would be willing to set up some significant financial considerations for her daughter, he finally caved and agreed to meet up with her. He didn't know what he should expect, but just having the meeting was going to ensure that Cheri had some type of monetary gain that he most certainly couldn't provide for her in any other ways. He made the decision. He sealed his fate with regret.


	29. To Change Who I Used to Be

**To Change Who I Used to Be**

 _He went through several facial hair types, a few different hair lengths, multiple fashion changes, and numerous hair colors before falling back into his natural red hair. But, he often grew a small beard, sometimes let his hair grow long, sometimes gave himself a buzz cut. At any rate, Max Giardi had to hide in plain sight, but as Max Van Zonder. Fortunately, all of the Schuester assets were seized and most of them sold very cheaply. He had money put away for a fallout, in case someone (not he or his brothers) ever messed things up for them. And things were definitely messed up. One brother in prison, the other in a grave, his mentor a mutt, his aunt a traitor, dragging his mother into her grasps at yesterday… The only bright spot for him was the fact that they knew people set up in agencies that could make his adoption of Rose Schuester legal. She couldn't carry that name, unfortunately. She was a Schuester, a proper Schuester, like him, but like him, she could never attain that name. He had to pretend that she was his cousin. She should have been his cousin, but that wasn't what she was, thank God. If she had been Will Schuester's daughter, he would have left her in the woods to be devoured by predators. But, she was Preston's. Biologically, his baby sister. One day, he might tell her, but for now, she was a displaced infant that belonged in his care, and his care alone. Not even that rancid mother of hers would ever see her, if he had anything to do with it._

 _As Max Van Zonder, he was able to move through life undetected. He missed certain elements of his old life, but the thing that gave him his internal reward was knowing that he would make Stevie pay for this, for every bit. Shortly before Mary Evans earned herself a bullet to the gut, the triplets had found out that Stevie_ fucked their mother. _What kind of person was he? Max fumed. Stevie was always fucking somebody's mom. Honestly, it always bothered Max a little bit how friendly he and Kendra were. But Kyle had insisted that his best friend was in no way shape or form the kind to try to do something with their mom. They had underestimated the power of the tongue. Ewww… Bad choice of words. Some of the older women in the circles bragged on Stevie. Kendra's husband had been in prison for a while, doing time for the Schuesters, and she wasn't one of the ones chosen for breeding, and while plenty of the lackies were interested in her, she didn't want to gain a reputation. Candy had a reputation, and she didn't want to be_ that _woman, at all._

 _But a boy, excited, full of stamina and loyalty - he wouldn't tell. Why would he whenever women were making dates with him all of the time? And he was at their house all of the time whenever the Evanses lived in Ohio and if and when he was allowed to visit, that was where he stayed. There was a guest room, but Kendra always went to visit him in there. He didn't feel good about it, but she was married into the Schuester family and pretty intimidating. As long as her boys never found out, she told him that everything was good. "Just trust me."_

Upon further therapy sessions, Stevie began to think that maybe Kendra Giardi had a lot to do with his inability to have functional relationships. It was one thing hooking up with hot older women that you totally wanted to bang, and something else completely feeling pressured by your best friends' mom. But, whenever he was younger, it was simply a chore to him. Like going over to mow your neighbor's yard or dog sitting. He wasn't stoked to do it, but totally didn't mind that much and never complained about it. In fact, he never talked about it until Sister Mary Constance flat out asked him, "Are there any other adult women who sexually violated you?"

He didn't feel like arguing about whether or not he was sexually violated, so he just started his hand count, not giving out any names. She wanted to know and desired to bring them to justice, but he had refused to give her any names. The closest detail that he had was, "I think one of 'em fucked my dad. I let it happen because I didn't want to get involved. I'm not gonna tell on anybody now, if I didn't even do it to spare my daddy."

 _But, Max was out there in the world, living his life and plotting his revenge. He was thankful for all of his Foundation connections, because even if they didn't get involved, sometimes they allowed things that helped him. He also enjoyed having Tesla's orderly at his beck and call. He wasn't consistently useful, but his fragments of intel were extremely helpful. He had so much Stevie porn with that girl. Max had wondered if he maybe had a thing for her, from how much footage he had from their bedrooms. "She's too light skinned," he'd said. It reminded him of Kyle. Kyle thought that lighter skin meant that somebody in her family had been some kind of race traitor and therefore, she was what he referred to as a tainted offering. A nigger, was a nigger, was a nigger, to Max. He didn't care if they were as white looking as Will. If he knew there was a drop of black blood - they were unworthy of anything, of everything._

 _He and his brothers had started their trips in the woods, hoping to get booked for desensitizing training videos (and some were definitely used), but a great deal of them were sold to Jesse St. James, for his personal collection. He had told Max, "I love your work. Don't tell me… your official occupation is either a cameraman or a photographer." (He meant Max's cover, as a future ghost skin)._

" _I do a lot of camera work for Mr. Saunders," Max had said, blushing and smiling, actually starstruck to be face to face with Jesse St. James._

" _Keep up the good work and you might one day be able to do camera work for me. I started my collections when I was maybe your age or a pinch older or younger. It's hard to find someone steadfast to do the noble work. I can tell from the things you record, you would have no issue with_ _anything that I may request."_ _EVERYONE knew about Jesse St. James' collections. No one would ever say it to his face and definitely not to an outsider, but he had donated certain footage to desensitizing - like that one that had the girl that Stevie kidnapped the night his mom died. They had seen it numerous times. It was one of Kyle's favorites. "St, James usually likes lighter girls, but that one is perfect!" When she was in Hank's hideout, all Kyle did was stare hungrily at her. Had things gone right that night, the three brothers would have been featuring her in a second video. It could have been EPIC. A secondary attack on such legendary prey? Max's mouth even watered thinking about the fanboying of it all. Aphasia would have made them gods, to follow up with one of Jesse's - with one that never got over it and very publicly suffered!_

 _But, Max lived out as sick a fantasy, at any rate. There was much work to do before he got to Stevie. In the meantime, that Bukowski had in his possession a gift that Kyle would have killed to have. Max ensured that his brother would be able to retrieve a small treat on her behalf._

 _ **.**_

Leaving the institution was just about the hardest thing that she had done in years, but having Chase with her made it bearable, at first. Brett's grandmother's house was spacious, but she only stayed in a small fragment of the house and he pretty much owned the rest. If she wasn't in her bedroom or the living room, she had been escorted to an event or something.

For Tesla, it was nearly the same, but in a different area of the house. She never left, though. The trip there was filled with anxiety and panic for her and once she was inside and got her bearings, this became her new home. She was too worried about that feeling to even want to step outside, and while Chase found he was less timid about going out into the world; he definitely worried about her safety. He wasn't going anywhere.

He offered to pay Brett the rent that he had paid to stay in the home, but Brett waived him of that and just told him he would have to pay for his own food and clothing. But Tesla was covered. After all, she was Brett's "pet," and one of his responsibilities was caring for her, because of that. For a little while, he did. He made her feel safe in a new place. He let her get comfortable living with him, then… something happened.

Bukowski had been having issues with the institution and the legal system. He was in more trouble than he would share with his new roommates and certainly with his grandmother. He was facing some charges and looking at hard time _and_ the possibility of never being able to have a good job again. He was scraping by for money and being investigated as the potential source of most of the child pornography created in the facility… and the only person that he knew of that might possibly be able to tell him how to get out of this was Max Giardi.

So, when Max next contacted him to see if he had anything useful, Bukowski threw himself at his mercy. He didn't have anything useful, but if he could get help, he was willing to do anything that Max wanted. "I want to see Tesla," Max told him. Brett reflexively almost refused. Tesla was just now alright with things. She still had PTSD, but she could manage, with him and if she saw Max now… That would completely undo all of his work over the years and all of her conditioning. "I want to make a recording to smuggle in to my brother and make his time in prison a little bit sweeter."

"What kind of recording?"

"I've seen all of your hidden camera footage, Brett. I know exactly what you're capable of. And you've seen at least one of my pieces of work, so you know what kind I'm into…"

"That would destroy her…" Brett whimpered.

"Okay, cool. Sorry to bother you. Unfortunately, I can't do anything to help you out at the moment. My connections to judges are for loved ones and valued associates."

"Wait. Would… Would I be able to walk on all of the stuff that the institutions lawyers are trying to put on me?"

"Nobody would ever know that you were even a suspect, _and_ you'd be free to work in another institution, if that's what you want to do."

"I loved my job."

"Do you love your freedom? Because I watched a video from _your_ personal collection and saw an 18 year old spit into a 16 year old girl's mouth. Ohio would lose their minds if that came out in court. Rhadja Robinson certainly lost hers when she viewed it. I would not wanna cross that woman. Uppity nigger's got pull." _And that was an honest statement._

"She'll hate me," Brett told himself, more than Max, about Allie Anne. He didn't want her to hate him...

"Okay. You have to do what's most important to you. I'll check in with you later, if you're around for more Stevie Evans shit… And if you're not… Well… That just leaves the overgrown child and your granny guarding her, right?" Max chuckled, "I can wait. Kyle's not going anywhere."

"Wait…" Brett snivelled. Max paused, and the other redhead could _hear_ his anticipation smile. "I'll… You can see her. You can make your recording, if that means that I walk on all these charges and I can still work in my field."

"You've made the right choice, Bukowski. To your freedom, and to control over the pet that you've groomed specifically for moments like this. She's your property. You can do whatever you want with her." _That was just it. Brett didn't_ _ **want**_ _to share her with Max. He wasn't above using her or asking her to be with somebody, but… this was somebody who had made her like this. He couldn't see a way that she might forgive him, but if he got locked up, Max all but promised he'd still take her, anyway. And, knowing this guy's record, he'd probably either kill her or keep her for personal use. Bukowski rationalized that it was one terrible blow for their best possible future._

Tesla would never be the same, though.

 _ **.**_

All these things were taking place unbeknownst to Stevie and to Cheerio. She was too busy trying to maintain health for this pregnancy, and he was too busy trying to be rehabilitated enough to be free. Circumstances made that complicated.

Whenever he first got to the place, there were obvious kid gloves from a few members of the staff - pretty much all of the orderlies seemed nervous, the nurses wanted to overcompensate for his last stay, and every single minority staff member seemed content to avoid him, except his psychiatrist, Sister Mary Constance.

He walked into her office for the first time, took one look at her and asked, "Is this a trick?"

"Is what a trick, Stevie?"

"You, sitting there, looking like a joke. Is this a bit? Because walking into a shrink's office and seeing a nun IS a laugh. It's a few laughs."

"Well, you can sit down and laugh, right? Give it a shot."

Stevie glared and folded his arms, "Was that a joke?"

"Young Man, I don't believe that you and I have the same sense of humor, because I don't understand what you're mistaking for jokes."

"You got on a nun suit!"

"I'm a nun. This is my habit. That's what it's called. I'm _also_ your psychiatrist. Certified. Check the credentials." She pointed to her wall. He waved a hand. Whether she was real, a delusion, certified, or a prank, he took a seat and made a decision. "Well, if you're the shrink, and this is truly my appointment, I'll just go ahead and tell you everything that you need me to admit in order to try to do your job…"

"Say whatever you need to."

Stevie laid down on her couch, repeated most of the unpacked hard stuff from his last institution, revealed his feelings about his current situation, talked his childhood, his sex life, his obsession with Cheerio, and his family phobia in the midst of starting his own family. "Now that you know it all, can I go? Or you gotta do a nun thing?"

"There's no nun things here, Stevie. You can certainly go, if you feel like you're done with our introduction. You don't have much longer scheduled and I don't force any of my patients to see me. I encourage it, but if they really want my help, they'll make it to our appointment. As long as you're accounted for, your free to skip." Stevie sat up. "I will say that just from what you've told me, it sounds like your family is directly related to all of the problems that you're sorting through. If you want to take the rest of your time to explore them and this idea, I welcome it. Your brother especially sounds connected, from your anecdotes."

Stevie got up and said, "I feel much lighter after all that unpacking. But, I'm sure something will come up by our next session." He left her office with his eyebrows furrowed. It sounded suspiciously like she didn't blame him for everything. She sounded like she blamed his family and she singled out Sam. Sure, that was likely what he'd projected, but they always told him to accept responsibility, basically to stop whining and be accountable. He was trying to do that. Maybe he succeeded. At any rate, he never missed an appointment.

The next time, he tried to ask her questions about why she thought Sam was an issue. "I don't think Sam is an issue, _you_ said he was in your very long regurgitation of your psychiatric record. Do you want to explore it?"

"No. I wanna explore why you didn't tell me to take accountability."

"You took accountability while you were speaking. Colorful phrases about how you really F worded up are signs of that."

"Then, why did it sound like you were blaming my family?"

"It must have been another miscommunication between us. We'll find our way. Because, I'm not in the habit blaming others. But, I definitely will address any patterns I notice. All I did, whenever you initially spoke to me, was notice that there was a pattern. Your family does or doesn't do something, you react in a destructive way, and no matter which family member triggers you; you relate it to your relationship with your brother. Now, that can mean a couple of things. It can mean that you deeply value him, or it can mean that you deeply blame him. Only you could tell me, for sure."

"I love my brother," Stevie said, furrowing his eyebrows and smiling.

"Mmhmm," she said and made a note.

"What's that note?"

"Stevie lies about his feelings about his brother," she said.

"Wait. Really? You just… tell me what you wrote?"

"Why would I expect you to be honest and then not in turn be honest with you, myself? Besides, it's against my religion to lie." She set her pen down and Stevie started laughing.

He abruptly stopped. "That wasn't a joke."

"It's true, but I did intend to make you laugh." So, he started laughing again. She wrote something else down, but he didn't ask her what it was. He figured that it was probably positive, since he was laughing, and all.

Stevie grew to love Sister Mary Constance, his nun psychiatrist, or his Nun PMC, as he affectionately liked to call her, just to see her twist her lips and stare at him bemused. He could tell her anything, and sometimes, she talked to him like his doctor, sometimes she talked to him like a friend, and sometimes, she talked to him like a mother. He supposed it was the nun in her, but he was grateful for it, whatever it was. It was something that he needed, especially after he would get a letter from Rhadja Robinson. That woman was a menace. She was a thorn in his side. She was torturing him, for lack of a better word. She had sent him letters, called, even sent nurses and lawyers to get him to agree to meet her for a conversation.

 _Steven,_

 _Videos of you and my daughter have come into my possession. I intend to come after you with the fullest extent of the law for sexual assault. If you wish to try to speak with me about this matter, put me on your visitation list so that we can meet up about possible agreements._

 _R. Robinson_

 _._

 _Steven,_

 _My lawyers are diligently working through hours and hours of explicit graphic sexual misconduct and clear abuse. There is no possible way that this doesn't fall on your shoulders. You are an adult man who has been sexually involved with a minor and we have evidence of it. If I were you, I would be intelligent and set up a meeting._

 _R. Robinson_

 _._

 _Steven,_

 _My daughter left home. She is now out in the world by herself with the fruit of demons inside of her body and it is entirely your fault. You could end this. You could have her come home and be safe. I think that you enjoy hurting her. I think that you love being able to have this control over her life and that you wield that power in order to keep her weak and distressed. And she thinks_ I'm _unkind. Your baby, if it even survives the streets with her will be raised by a sick person with no valuable life skills, completely alone. I hope you're happy about that._

 _._

She stopped signing them and just sent: _Arrange a meeting. Cheri and this baby's life depend on it._ She sent the same tormenting letter every single day! Whenever he talked to Sister Mary Constance about this, she wondered, "Would you like us to cease letters from her? This is harassment. We could possibly even press charges."

"I can't press charges on my baby's mama's mother!" He sighed, laying down. "She still loves her, no matter what she's done to her. I just hate the constant attention from the woman. It's like… I have to take it, but it's hard to read."

"You don't have to take anything, Stevie."

"Would it be okay if I did arrange a meeting with her? Maybe… She would back off if I just talked to her?"

"If you think that you're ready for that, I'll have to meet with her first, gauge things, and make a decision on whether or not _I_ believe that it's a good for you to see her."

"I think that I'm ready for it… Do… Do you think so?" He wondered.

Sis Mary Constance smiled softly at him, like a mother, he noted to himself. And he definitely reminded her of a little boy when he asked her this. The poor thing was always seeking out a motherly figure, always seeking out the validation of a respected older person. She had noticed this early on. He didn't do it with everyone. In fact, he frequently bucked at authority figures. But, older women and in particular those who were nice, but not frightened of him made him want to make the best impressions.

"I think that you've proven that you're willing to face your fears and your problems, and I am extremely impressed with that type of progress. The file that they sent with you is not the young man that comes to my office everyday." He smiled brightly. "We gonna get you well, yet, Stevie." He left the office and squeezed her shoulder, earning him pursed lips and the question, "What's my rule about casually touching me?"

"Don't," he said and pointed to her. If Nun PMC was gonna check that lady out, he was definitely going to be alright.

 _ **.**_

Stevie felt confident, though nervous about the meeting. Mary Constance had read all of the mail that Rhadja sent him, interviewed the woman, vetted her and promised to remain close, in case something went unexpected. Unfortunately, by the time the meeting happened, something unexpected _did_ take place and she was called away. Therefore, Stevie went into the meeting alone and pretty afraid. He came in early, to make sure that he chose a seat against the wall, with his back up against it. He didn't want anybody to be able to come up behind him, and that was simply one of his general paranoias.

He had one of Cheri's notepad's with him and he was drawing a doodle in it whenever she came. She stood in the doorway for a moment, watching him, and growing sicker and angrier with each deep breath that she took. _Why this trash, Mon Cheri?_ Did her daughter hate her so much that she would not only throw away her life, but their bloodline away with this… "Complete filth," she said out loud and made her way into the room. She made sure to clank her heels loudly, to make everyone cognizant turn in her direction. He looked up at the sound and was nearly blown away. Cheerio was _definitely_ this woman's daughter. She was older, but she still looked _really_ good. He had hope for future Cheerio, looking at her mom. He also got terrified just seeing her.

He put the pad away and watched her strut towards him, disdain in her captivating green eyes and a dangerous smirk on her perfect lips. "Thank you so much for agreeing to meet with me."

"You didn't give me much of a choice…" When she sat down, he squirmed a little bit.

She was seated upright, with perfect pageantry posture that he noticed Cheerio picked up from her - because she never slumped and now he knew why. "Well, there are some important things that we have common stake in, and I simply couldn't let you avoid the issue, as complicated as it may be to discuss." The way that she delicately, but deliberately removed her gloves somehow impressed him. He watched her set the gloves on the table and fold her nicely manicured hands over each other on her bag, like she didn't even want to touch the table. Her demeanor reminded him of a villainess in a movie, calmly speaking before withdrawing a sword and beheading someone.

"I.. don't know what you mean…"

Rhadja scoffed without changing her facial expression. It came from her throat, but she didn't offer another word for several minutes. She wanted this poor white trash to take in everything she was. Black. Female. Rich. Everything he was not. She had worn her royal jewels, princess cut diamonds, rare pearls, emeralds and jade, to make her eyes sparkle with their green hues, and to subconsciously remind him of green, of money. Her manicure was flawless and the beauty products that she used made her look superhuman. The designer pale green dress that she was wearing was knee length, but rose up when she sat and the shoes that she wore looked like they had never been worn before. He didn't know that they were $1700.00. He knew that everything she had on probably cost more than everything that he had ever owned.

"You knocked my daughter up."

"There were careless actions made by both of us, but we're going to do whatever we can to make sure that we get things sorted out."

She chuckled and her face changed a little bit. She still looked exactly like a slightly older Cheerio, but like… if she was evil. _Is this hillbilly for real? He must be out of his mind, Of course he is, that's why he's in this place. Outside of his mind, trashy, AND stupid, apparently._ Cheri must have really hated her to ever, EVER - "You obviously have no idea how much of a fool you sound, right now." Her smile was completely gone and the glare shined on her entire face. "You're in a mental institution for KILLING a man. A man that reports claimed was your friend and someone you had known for several years. You also, in the same night, kidnapped two women, double crossed white supremacists and watched your mother die." He thought about his mother. Usually, people tried to pad that - not just throw it at him that way. It surprised him just how triggering that was, if someone without his best interests just threw it at him. She was still going though he could hardly hear her as his mother's death spun around in his hand. "Sex with you seems absolutely disgusting, with all the fluids and the sloppy technique. You've gotten into so many fights in the institution, it is a wonder that they allowed you to stay…"

"I.. know my life, Mrs. Robinson."

"Then you know that you're not the right person for Cheri or any other woman, for that matter." She tilted her head, admiring silently that she was getting to him, just like she knew that she would. He was so simple. A pathetic simpleton that she would forever hate for tainting her daughter this way. "Look, we can pretend that I have said something rude, or you can admit that you believe, just as much as I do that if you do ever get out of this place, you have no type of future out in that world. Everything that you worked towards and everything that you made yourself into went away the night that you got yourself sent here. You aren't your brother. Nobody is trying to write books about you or make movies or start benefits. You aren't a reformed killer turned hero with a sensational story. You're a thug who got caught and played crazy." His eyes widened. She knew that look. He resembled those remarks and he felt it, as much as she meant it. He looked about ready to cry, but she knew he wouldn't easily let it happen. She was gonna have to work a little harder for those tears, for his breakdown, for her ultimate goal.

He tried to deny the truth. "I needed help and I have gotten help. I am going to get out of here and then, we'll take care of all of the things that other parents do." Even as he said that, it sounded less true than it had ever sounded when he and Cheri discussed it.

She was on her job, making unimpressed faces as he said what he said and quickly gaslighting him with, "How selfish of _both_ of you to further punish this kid by making it have to grow up with your defects in its DNA and your baggage in its upbringing. The baby that has to eventually find out who his father is. A killer who would have had no regard for its life only a few months before its conception. The child who may or may not have a mother, because you never know when Cheri is going to take another bottle of pills, or hang herself, or slit her wrists. No human being deserves you, Steven Evans, especially not one that carries my genes. If you cared, at all about my daughter, you would admit that to her, or at the very least to your damn self.. and let her go. She's about to get out of here. She can't get rid of it, physically, now, but she CAN give it up. She can finish high school. She can go to college. She can lead a full life again. Do you think that after all of her years of struggling and healing that she deserves to have you reeling her back into distress?" Stevie opened his mouth to comment, but a tear fell from his eye, instead and he just shook his head, no.

Rhadja smirked, so satisfied. She knew that even that single tear meant her victory. She was going to at the very least ruin that relationship, if not keep him completely away from her offspring. She answered her own question for him, "Of course she doesn't. Maybe, someday, if you ever get out, you two can be _friends_. Maybe you can search for that kid and see what he or she is up to. But, the worst possible thing that you could do, (if you are truly reformed and have gotten help in this place) is to pretend that you and my daughter could _ever_ have a life together worth _anything."_ He was visibly shaking, trying not to burst into tears and attempting not to have an explosive outburst. The last thing that he needed was to prove her completely right, even though he knew that she was… "It wouldn't be fair to either of them to have to bear the burdens of your past and it's unfair to that child to have to bear the two of you."

He wiped his eye with the heel of his hand and she repugnantly patted him on the shoulder. "Even though I don't want her having this baby, let her down gently. We don't want the two of them to suffer more than they have to." He shook his head and she sighed, rolling her eyes. "I can tell that you know I'm right, Steven."

"I can't do that to them. We've already made promises to each other. I've promised her that I wouldn't be another person who says they love her then lets her down!"

She collected her hands to herself in frustrated fists, "You are going to let her down! That is simply inevitable. It will happen. The choice of whether it happens now or years down the line when she feels trapped with you is what I'm asking you to make right now. You know that I'm right, because you know deep down inside that you are wrong for her. If you won't admit it to me, at least admit it to yourself and let them go."

He threw his head back and now he couldn't help but cry, though he managed to keep it silent. "She'll hate me. She will hate me and she won't ever let me see him."

"Him? It's a boy… So, you think that you, a white man trained to kill black ones are capable of raising one, instead? My poor, poor grandson. He'll probably kill himself before he even hits puberty."

Stevie could barely breathe, now. "Stop…"

"You could save him years of pain just by getting out of his life. You could spare my daughter by severing ties, but some promise you made, probably in the throws of twisted hatesex passion is more important than her emotional and mental well-being. You're a pathetic man and will be a worthless father." She began to put her gloves back on. "I hope you die in this place, so my Cheri can be free, since you're too much a coward to do the right thing by her."

"I…. will." Now, he loud sobbed and quickly caught himself. "I'll do it. It's… the only way to be sure." He nodded his head, "Are… Are you going to make sure that she's well kept? Not in some institution. Not in some dump, but some place nice and deserved?"

"I'm going to always provide for mine. Worry about yourself." She grabbed her purse, stood up, hovered over him for a moment and warned, "But, if you really do this, I'm definitely going to enhance her inheritance." He nodded his head and she forced a smile. It was the meanest smile he had ever seen. She was so happy with herself, watching his heart break and knowing that he was going to pass that along to her daughter. He hated her for it, but… He believed her, too. He believed everything that she said, because he always had and wasn't sure of how he'd let Cheerio convince him otherwise. Now, he was going to have to do this terrible thing, make this excruciating sacrifice.. For her and for Cowboy, and neither of them will probably never even know it.

 _ **.**_

The next time that he saw Cheerio, he drank her in from the window. He would never forget this day. He was about to ruin his own goddamn life forever… but probably save hers and Cowboy's. His life was nothing to pay for that chance for them. It took Sister Mary Constance hours to calm him down after his visit with Rhadja. She took the initiative to restrict the woman's access, to refuse any letters and to make her have to use litigation if she ever wanted exposure to him again. She also allowed him to get Cyril brought back in. Stevie played that guitar almost every waking moment of the day, and he had it in his arms as he looked at Cheerio, for what he believed would be the last time.

She had on a pink top with strawberries on it, a red beanie and matching jacket. Her smile was bright and the bounce in her step was light and carefree. He almost cried just thinking about how he was about to change her demeanor; how he was about to change their lives. Whenever she came in, she found him and waited for him to greet her with a hug. She was confused when he didn't, but gave him one and a kiss that he recoiled from.. "Okay, what's going on, Cornflake?" She wondered.

He couldn't even look at her. "Not doing too well."

She reached for the pad, "Is it in here?" she asked and flipped to the last entry as he began to play some All American Rejects song on the guitar and quietly sing, basically background music to her reading this flurry of words.

"Your subtleties, They strangle me. I can't explain myself at all. And all that wants. And all that needs. All I don't want to need at all…"

 _This was all a mistake. We were naive to think anything else. I'm at fault, more than anyone. I had to have you. I insisted on being with you, knowing that I didn't deserve you, and then I did this careless thing and put you in this vulnerable position…_

"The walls start breathing, My mind's un-weaving. Maybe it's best you leave me alone. A weight is lifted, On this evening - I give the final blow…"

 _The best thing that can be done at this point is for me to finally make a good decision and be the one to do what needs to be done. We can't be together and we never could. We both should have known that, but I got into your mind, and I'm really sorry that I sold this fairytale to you…_

"What the fuckkk?" Cheerio whispered, reading to herself as Stevie's singing became a little more teary

"When darkness turns to light, It ends tonight, It ends tonight…"

 _I love you so much. I love you and Cowboy. I always will. But, we can't be a family. You and me can't be together…_

"What the fuck is this, Cornflake, are you _really_ doing this to me, through a letter, even though I'm sitting right here and you could have just said it to me?"

He stared out of the window, still singing, " A falling star. Least I fall alone. I can't explain what you can't explain. Your finding things that you didn't know.

"I look at you with such disdain!" She joined in on the song that he was trying to use to pull himself out of the room. She wasn't about to make this easy for him. "The walls start breathing. My mind's un-weaving. Maybe it's best you leave me alone. A weight is lifted. On this evening, I give the final blow…" She jerked him by the collar of his shirt to try to make him stop singing and look at her, but he just pulled away from her and got up from the table and walked away. "Are you…?" She couldn't even figure out what she was going to ask him. Cowboy was acting a fool in there and she was feeling like one.

Cheri was red in the face as she rushed behind Stevie, "You're not even going to try to say goodbye to me?" She squealed, holding her belly and trying not to cry.

"I thought that the goodbye was understood when I told you that we're not going to be together, that we can't and we both should have known that!" He was still avoiding looking at her. That would make him weak and he couldn't _be_ weak right now.

"You didn't _tell me_ anything. You wrote it down, like I wasn't even worth a conversation."

"You generally communicate best this way. I was trying to make this easier on you, not me. I just want you to have a better life than what I would provide. I want things fair for him…"

She stepped in front of him and he tossed his head back in annoyance and frustration, but mostly to avoid facing her. "Did my mom get to you? You sound just like her, with all of this talk about who you are and how unfair it is to this baby to have to be yours… Do you think that it's unfair for him to be mine, too? You think he doesn't deserve to have two people who love each other come together and bring him to life? Why is that bad? I thought you'd changed… You don't want him because his mama's black!"

The fury in Stevie's eyes when he finally made eye contact with her after that outburst honestly frightened her. She froze, with wide, terrified eyes and even her tears seemed to pause.

He noticed her reaction and softened, slightly. He accidentally saw her belly, too. Nowm he was facing both of them and all he wanted to do was drop dead on the spot. "I don't even know how you can even think that, at this point," he said. "If nothing else, you know we're… friends." He massaged his temples, "I'm going to do any and everything that I can to help you, but what can I do from here? You've been released! You have a chance at a life. Your mother came back for you. That's the thing you've wanted most since I've known you."

"She wants me to throw him away. Our baby, Stevie!" She grabbed his hand and placed it against herself to feel Cowboy's movement. He temporarily looked like he would crumble. He hadn't felt Cowboy move before, and he was movin' up a storm in there.

He jerked his hand away, mad that she used that against him. She _had_ to see that this was best for her and the baby. "You shouldn't come here anymore. You got out. Stay out."

"We're friends? But.. you don't even want to see me? You don't want to meet him? You want me gone…" She held herself and leaned against the wall. He reflexively tried to check on her, but she jerked away from him. "NO! You don't get to care when its comfortable or convenient! I'm stuck loving you while you slam me out. I am going to have a baby that I am going to love as much as I love you and I have to do that alone. I got it. But, you could at least admit that we are what we are. We aren't friends. We haven't been friends in a long time. I don't know that we ever were. We were always going to be this. He's the manifestation of it. Whether or not you want it… we're family, now." She stormed off, and Stevie leaned against the wall now and slid down it, crying, finally. Help rushed over to him, collecting him to help him to his room. She turned to see that and shut her eyes tightly, warning herself to stop caring. He had rejected her and she needed to bounce back.

Before going back to the truck, she rushed into the bathroom to vomit, cry, kick the toilet, scream, tell a nurse that she was okay and just leaving, and basically having a full meltdown, then promising Cowboy, "Whatever happens I promise to always pull it together for you no matter how long it takes me I'm not going to let this bring us down." She rubbed her belly and went outside to find Stacie. "Did you know?" She asked.

"Did I know, what?" She shook her head and got into the truck. "Cheerio, what's going on? Is Stevie alright?"

She shrugged her shoulders, "He told me not to come back."

"WHAT?"

"I don't wanna talk about it. I just wanna go." The ride home was speechless, but a country station was playing on the radio. Whenever they made it back home, Cheri retreated into the room she had been sleeping in and Stacie began texting Stevie to try to figure out what was going on. He didn't reply that night and whenever Stacie went to knock on Cheri's door to see if she needed anything, she and all of her stuff was gone! Stacie tried to call her, but she ignored it and it went to her voicemail, then she turned it off as she knocked on the door of the tiny house.

Jake opened it and looked confused, "Cheerio.. What's up?"

"Something happened. You think your mom will care if I borrowed the couch for a few?"

"Uh, yeah, she would." She frowned and nodded. "She'd expect me to take the couch and you have my room. Come on. I'll get your stuff from the cabbie."

"Thanks, Jake."

"Don't mention it."


	30. A Reason to Start Over New

**A Reason to Start Over New**

 _That corny song was on the radio again, and Cheerio was definitely singing it, because it was trendy and she loved it. "I'm not a perfect person! There's many things I wish I didn't dooo. But I continue, learniiiing…" And she was doing that thing where she pointed her finger in the air to hit a note (even though she never hit any notes because she wasn't much of a singer). She could hold a decent note, but not like… impressively. Stevie rolled his eyes, reached across her and turned on the button for the memory rock station. "Wow! You just gonna turn off what I was clearly listening to?"_

" _We've all heard enough," he said. He looked at Tesla, who looked salty AF that he changed the station and he chuckled, "Okay, so I'VE heard enough."_

" _Hit too close to home, Cornflake?"_

" _Excuse me?"_

" _Those lyrics are what you should be telling me, like pretty much every day."_

 _He shook his head, "I never should have told your ass I had feelings for you. Now, it's going to your head."_

" _Whatever, whatever. I don't care. You're gonna sing this song to me one day," she said, changing the station back. "You'll have to. I don't know when or why, but it's happening."_

So, whenever he heard that song, he almost kicked over the boombox. Sister Mary Constance saw him angrily heading over and called out to him, "Stevie! What's going on?" He stopped and turned around. "You look like you're on a mission and not one of goodwill. Want to take a walk outside?"

"It's cold outside," he said, but came over to where she was. "I just want to be in complete silence for a while. Is there anywhere that I can do that? Nobody talking. No background music. No crazy people making crazy sounds. No nurses chattering. No pills clattering. Just… no noise whatsoever."

"There might be a place, but it's outside." He groaned and went to find his jacket. She signed off that she was bringing him outside and they went for a walk. She didn't say anything, but led him to this gazebo on the far end of the campus near where the chapel was. He never really came out this far, because he didn't go to the chapel. But, it was pretty peaceful here. He studied the chapel. It was a prettier building than the institution was, but that was to be expected. Churches usually showed off.

"Do you do sermons and stuff in there?"

"I don't preach sermons. There are a few different denomination leaders who come in to have worship services with patients at their request, though. They use the same building, but different rooms. The rooms used to be classrooms, when that was a Catholic school. The institution purchased it years ago. It had been connected to the Schuesters, so the Catholic church and the school administrators wanted some distance. Years ago, though, Preston Schuester was on the board for the institution. He sent a lot of kids that came through his courts here."

"My sister in law was here when she was younger. I think that was probably around the time that he was affiliated with the place. It's hard for her to even visit because of that. She wasn't even comfortable in the last place I was in, so I try to convince her not to put herself through coming here, a place where she tried to kill herself a bunch of times."

She nodded her head in agreement with him, but offered, "It's a much better place than it used to be, for sure. I worked here as a nurse a long time ago."

"Were you a nun and nurse?"

"Yes, I was. I was a nun, a nurse, _and_ a teacher at the school. I lived in those quarters," She pointed at a certain building. "Now, I live in those." She pointed at a house near the chapel. "I can't imagine that I'll ever go anywhere else. I'm comfortable here and I feel like I'm doing the work of God. I got my degree so that doctors and administrators would stop handling me like I didn't know what I was talking about. I never planned on being a psychiatrist, but things turn out differently than we sometimes plan."

"What was the turning point, or is that too much information?"

Usually, Sister Mary Constance didn't offer personal information, but since they weren't in a session and since it wasn't likely to trigger anything inside of him, she indulged him. "Well… many years ago, I was the nurse for an exorcism. I went in feeling apprehensive. I didn't think that child was possessed by any demons, but the Catholic church had approved the ceremony and there weren't a lot of nuns who were also medical professionals on this campus."

"Are there a lot on other campuses?" He asked, laughing. She looked so serious that he stopped quickly. This was serious for her, and he didn't want to be disrespectful to one of the very few nice people that he had met in his short life.

"I was chosen, and I felt like God must have chose me for a reason. So, I tried to tell them that I didn't think this child needed this exorcism. I advocated for certain meds. Her parents weren't the meds type and the church had already spoken. So, for days, I watched, nursed when needed, prayed continuously, barely slept, didn't eat… It was, to this day, the most exhausting thing I've ever done and the most horrific thing I've ever been a part of."

"I'm guessing it didn't work out."

"The child died. 11 Years old. It was in the news as a scandal - a child killed during exorcism at a religious institution that had ties with a psychiatric care facility? Somebody should have been able to prevent it. I felt like if I had been more than a nun, more than a nurse, I probably could have. So, I set out to be more. Her memory keeps me going. You know how the Bible says we rejoice over one sinner saved than a thousand souls that don't need to be saved? Well, I feel like I have mourned over that one lost soul, and I can only find comfort whenever I can help another one."

"I noticed you work with mostly children. What made you take me, an adult, on?"

"Well, you were a child when you were put into the system and since we didn't get the progress that we would have wanted at your last place, I decided that I'd treat it as though it wasn't treatment."

"So, basically, you still saw me as a 16 year old boy."

"Basically. Of course, now that I know you, it's a 12 year old boy I see you as."

He cackled, "Damn, Nun PMC! You got jokes. Okay." She shivered and he frowned, "Should we go back?"

"Naw. My place is closer, and I have hot tea in there. You interested in some hot tea?"

"Is it wise for you to invite me in there?"

"What, you a vampire? My home is blessed and protected, Dracula."

He laughed again. "I meant protocol or whatever."

"It's on campus and you're under my care. As long as I do nothing to violate you, there are no rules against you being invited into my living space. But, I appreciate the fact that you were concerned. You're a good kid, Stevie. Under all the trauma, most kids are."

.

Cheerio tried to make herself useful by helping to clean up, but Jake kept his mom's house virtually spotless. She thought maybe she'd learn a recipe and cook, but Jake prepared meals for the week and broke them down into containers for each of them at the moment he cooked. She wondered if she could try to give them a portion of her paycheck, but Mama Tanisha always told her that she didn't have to. For about three weeks this went on, and she felt a way about it. She felt like she was imposing on these people, who clearly didn't have a lot for themselves. But, what was she going to do? Stay with her ex's family, after he unceremoniously dumped her? Having to ride back with one of them was embarrassing enough.

Dwight kept calling her about doctor's appointments and stuff. She wanted to do it without him, but the man was persistent to the point that she would agree to meet him somewhere and let him take her and drop her off where she met him. She didn't want any of them to know where she was staying at the moment. But, whenever she had an appointment that he brought her to and her blood pressure was high, he told her whenever they got back into his truck, "I don't know where you've been sleeping, but I'm taking you home."

"I don't have a home," she said.

"You most certainly do. Now, I can't keep you there, but I won't help you go somewhere else. You're not okay and we'll all feel better if we can make sure that you're gonna be. I'm bringing you _home,_ with family." They were silent on the drive, but whenever they pulled into the driveway of the house, she started crying. Dwight sighed and said, "There's nothing that you need to cry about. Everybody will be happy to have you here. We've all been worried. We don't know where you've been or how you've been, but the doctor says that you need some stability, rest and a healthy diet. You can get all of that here. I don't know what you can get wherever you were."

"Cornflake doesn't want me," she said. "He doesn't want Cowboy. He wouldn't want me here, with his family. He doesn't even want to see me."

"Well, I don't give a damn what he wants. He's not here. But his lady and his baby is and his family is always gonna do right by y'all, no matter what kinda mood he's in. Because, believe me - Stevie's just in a mood. Now, that don't make it less hurtful to you or less harmful to Cowboy. But, that's the kinda wishy washy childishness that can sometimes come out of Stevie whenever he's havin' a temper tantrum or a pity party. You focus on you, your body and your baby."

She nodded her head, but she had to really fight to not defend Stevie. To not tell Dwight that he was wrong and that wasn't how Stevie was at all. That Stevie really must have thought this was the right thing because he never would hurt her and especially not Cowboy just because he wasn't feeling okay! She let him help her out of the truck, but when he set her on the ground and she winced, he noticed her feet were really swollen and he picked her up. "Mr. Evans…"

"Hush now, little girl. You're not walking on these swollen baloneys." She laughed a little bit, but she was still crying. It was a relief to not be on her feet, though. "Papa Dwight's gonna make sure his grandson is healthy and happy. That's gotta start with takin' care of his mama." She squeezed her arms around his neck and cried on his shoulder. It was weird. She barely knew this man and didn't even like him, to be honest. But right now, he was the only person who not only _said_ that he would keep her safe, but had just literally picked up her big belly having butt and carried her like the freakin Bodyguard, just to solidify this vow to help her. Of course, his son had made a lot of claims that turned out to be untrue and he _did_ raise Cornflake. But for now, she honestly just wanted somebody in her corner, and it felt a little better that it was Cowboy's family that wanted to be.

.

It was pretty overwhelming for Cheerio to be in the Evans house so much. It was less stressful than feeling like a mooch at Mama Tanisha's little place, but just a lot of emotional performing it seemed, to her. So, Stacie got them a little apartment (Cheerio's name couldn't be on the lease and the landlord actually wasn't going to approve the stay, because she was a 16 year old who clearly wasn't related to her), but Stacie promised that Cheerio was working on her independence and explained that she was pregnant with her brother's baby… He was nice enough to work with them on it, but asked that they please get two separate beds. He was worried that they possibly were lesbians and didn't feel comfortable with that.

Stacie went along with everything that was asked of her to get them into this apartment. It was affordable and spacious for the price (though it was pretty small). She made sure that Cheerio got to and from school. She moved all of their needs into the apartment when she herself wasn't in class. She decorated, made the place feel like home, made sure that there was always a wholesome and filling meal for her, put plants inside and on the balcony that would be useful for them, and before she ever went to class or work, made sure that Cheerio had any and everything that she might need in the place, including a new cell phone - one that her parents didn't have the bill or number for. She preferred that she wasn't at the apartment alone whenever she was gone, so sometimes Dwight would stop by to check in with her.

Then, at times, when the apartment seemed too crammed, they did of course still have a place in Dwight's house. He liked for them to come over and planned for them to be there the entire Christmas break, since they both were out of high school and college at the same time. Sam would be in town, so he and Mercedes would spend some time there, too. Cheerio worried about it, because she knew that they had dogs and she was allergic. She tried to decline, but Dwight told her that he'd built a weather appropriate doghouse that they could go inside of when they were there. Plus, he'd already shampooed, cleaned and dusted his house from top to bottom in preparation for her arrival. So, she felt _obligated_ to go after that.

She was glad that he did, because that man put a lot of work into the holiday season. He had chopped his own wood for the fireplace. He roasted nuts, heated up hot chocolate, had smores products available, sets of holiday pajamas and robes for the girls, and he had selected the Christmas tree, but waited for them to help decorate, so that they could do things that made them happy. He showed Cheerio some African and African American ornaments that he had found in Pieces of Mercy and asked her what she thought of them. They were cute. There were several that she loved - the ballerina, the pageant queen, the cheerleader, and the pregnant woman. She knew that he got those specifically for her, and probably some of the others to make for a lot of options.

"Dang, you put a lot into this, Papa Dwight!" she said.

"Well, I remember that you'd always put fanfare into the holidays. I know that you love the holidays and you didn't get a good Thanksgiving. You vanished for a couple of weeks, and wello… Is it too much?"

"No. If I had an allowance, I could go much bigger," she said, laughing.

"Let's go shopping," he suggested.

Stacie laughed and shook her head, "You two have fun. I'm getting into the big old bathtub. She grabbed her jar of bath herbs and gave them a wave.

"It's just us, then!" Dwight cheered. He really wanted her to feel at home for the holidays. The rest of them were going to go see Stevie, and he already didn't know how to communicate that to her, so perhaps if she was here and comfortable, she would handle it better when they had to go do that without her. OR, she might feel like all of this was just an elaborate lie. He couldn't say for sure, but he would try his best to make this Christmas good for her.

Ultimately, it was. She was sad about not seeing Stevie, but everyone had tried their hardest to make her feel welcome, and whenever they were gone to see him, she cozied up on the couch, watched some Hallmark movies, and chattered about them with an in utero Cowboy. It was actually some much needed Mommy-Cowboy time that she hadn't realized that she needed. With always having Stacie or Dwight around trying to make sure she was alright, she sometimes forgot to just relax and be alright. But, this Christmas, she realized something - she definitely was gonna be.

.

The New Year marked a good starting point for her to reinvent herself. Her journaling became more detailed and more honest. Not just notes, scribbles, ideas, but pretty much every thought that she might have went into that bad boy. She began to try to color coordinate her older notepads with colored tabs and box them up according to time frame. She was back confident enough to take some self care with her beauty and health, got that blood pressure down, and pestered Stacie for cuddles as frequently as she felt like she needed them.

By Valentine's Day, unknown to her, Stacie had gotten to the point where she didn't want to see Stevie until he agreed to see Cheerio. That didn't last long, because Stacie was way too concerned about her twin and he was way more stubborn than she was. Fortunately, Cheerio was able to live life without knowing about the plots and plans put into trying to get them reunited, at least face to face. She was too busy focusing on making a beautiful Galentines' evening for her and Stacie.

She had gotten Jake to help her cook, which meant Jake cooked while she stood back, because the last time she "helped" there was a fiasco with her not realizing the difference between salt and sugar, or accidentally skipping lines while reading and putting the wrong increments of stuff into recipes. She just had so much a of focus problem. "What I need are audio recipes!" She complained, "If you just told me, instead of me trying to read and work at the same time…" But, Jake promised himself to never again trust her near a kitchen. So, he made dinner for her and Stacie, baked and she gave him money from her POM job, that she insisted that he take for helping her.

Stacie got home to lit candles, soft music, flowers, food, and Cheerio in a pretty, revealing maternity dress that she must've ordered from somewhere. "Am I being seduced?" Stacie joked. "Because, you know the landlord won't stand for it!"

Cheerio laughed and said, "I don't understand why people woo mates but don't woo friends. Friends are the ones that will be there for you even when your babydaddy won't! So, yes, in a way you're being seduced. You take care of me. You protect me. You comfort me. You really act like you and me are having a baby and for that, you deserve a beautiful date night with all the stops pulled out. Happy Galentine's Day!"

"Did you cook this?" Stacie wondered, trying not to sound too alarmed. She, too, had witnessed Cheerio's less than efficient cooking attention.

"I hired a chef," she said. "I got real fancy with this, Woman! Sit down and let me love you!" Stacie sat down, laughing and took Cheerio's hand. "I'm glad that you got this place for us. Cowboy and I might not have made it in that house with Papa Dwight and curling up on Mrs. Puckerman's couch was putting more on my body than my pride was letting me see. I don't know where we'd be without you." Cheerio was about to cry.

Stacie shook her head and told her, "I haven't done anything special for you, Cheerio. You and Cowboy are family. I love y'all." Now, Cheerio WAS crying. "Oh, Lordy!" Stacie called out and collected her into a hug. She held her close and patted her hair. "We're family. You remember that. Nothing I do is an obligation or a favor. It's just what we do for family."

.

They had planned a girls only birthday bash for her at POM, with cake, cookies, brownies and blondies. It was really a baby shower/birthday party, so some could bring gifts for her and some could bring gifts for the baby. She was more concerned with eating all the baked goods. She had been with Tanisha prior to that and the woman brought her to the gathering. It was her first time meeting Cheerio's coworkers and stuff, but she was mostly there to make sure she spent some time with this child, who spent so much time at her place that she wanted to see what the other people in her life were like.

It was a good time for all. Cheerio learned some line dances and also learned that Stacie had hung out with mostly black girls in school, because Sis was GETTIN' IT on that dance floor! And the POM ladies were music lovers, so a lot of singing and dancing was done and everybody bought a gift for both baby AND his mommy! She was crying about that. "I feel so loved. You all can't possibly understand. I went for two years without any real friends and connections. Like, I had some friends, but not ones that could really think about my best interests or get me things. I didn't see my family, and I didn't keep most of those friends… So, this all is really… It's got me messed up. If I lose these friendships, I don't even know. Lord…"  
.

By the time that March rolled around, meaning spring and Stevie and Stacie's birthday, Cheerio had become pretty grounded in her routine. She plotted out which nights she would spend at Dwight's, at home with Stacie, and at Jake's, depending on what kind of day she had planned, or what kind of day THEY had planned. She was mostly at home, but if Stacie had to work late, she was at Dwight's (where the dinner was), and if Stacie had something early in the morning, Dwight brought her to school. However, if she spent the night at Jake's she rode to school with him. She never spent nights there if she had an early doctor's appointment, but if she had an afternoon or afterschool apartment, Jake left school early with her to make sure that she got there without disturbing an Evans' workday... For the sake of his education, Tanisha would volunteer, if the appointment was too early in the day.

Cowboy already had an entire village, to the point where she was trying to work out who'd be at her bedside during labor - Stacie and Jake, and who would just be in the hospital room, if they were allowed - Dwight, Tanisha, Miss Babydoll… and honestly, the only other visitor that she might have would be Stevie's brother, who would only be able to come in afterwards, like the crew from POM.

Now, one thing that was concerning her was that the apartment didn't have room for a nursery. So, what Dwight proposed was to have the room that she used when she slept at his house to be a bedroom and a nursery, with her bed and the crib and all of the baby's things that were being ordered from the registry, and he could make it like a half and half for her, and she could move back into his home, and if she wanted to get away, go to Stacie's. She liked that idea, simply for the fact that it would give Cowboy more room to breathe and to grow. When he was a little bit bigger, maybe they could get a bigger apartment - like when she was out of school or something.

The thing that was in the back of her mind that she was avoiding was the feelings that she would have whenever Stevie's birthday came around. She had spent a great amount of time and energy preparing a great birthday for him last year, and he'd only had a fit. It had gone wrong. She remembered so many moments that she shared with Stevie and realized that they were bad moments, toxic. She recalled things that she had previously had some pain and fondness over and knew now that they had simply been damaging to her mind and heart. She was _glad_ that he had released her. He'd always treated her like a possession anyway! And now, she was free of him, of that bad relationship and his overbearing ways and harmful behavior… Now, she was crying, alone in her bed. Because, the more that she thought about it, the more that she knew that all it would take was for him to say the word, and she would forgive the last few months. She would let him right back in, even knowing what she knew now - that it would just be trouble. "Give me strength, Cowboy. I wanna be strong against him, for you. I want to get over him, for you."

.

Stacie brought Stevie some presents. Their birthday was one of those days where she visited him by herself. "She's looking great. Her doctor visits are going well. Cowboy's healthy," she said as she placed his gifts on the table. "But, months later, I still catch her crying over you…"

"She's got pregnancy hormones," he said, not touching the gifts, but being more grateful about the report that the love of his life and his son were okay.

"Yeah, she's also got a boyfriend, I think," she said. He flinched and clenched his fists, but didn't respond. "It's this guy that she goes to school with, Jake."

"She mentioned him," he said, but nothing else.

"She spends the night at his house sometimes. He's come over to our place a few times, too, but I don't know him that well. He and Mercedes are pretty cool these days, so I guess he's alright."

"Is she happy with him?"

"I just told you that I catch her crying over you, so no." She was a little bit pissed that he looked relieved to hear that. "So, you don't want her happy with someone else?" She asked. He gave her a confused look. "You shouldn't be relieved that she's crying over you while she's with somebody else. You should want her to be happy, even if it's not with you. That's how it's supposed to be when you love people."

"I do want her to be happy. That's exactly why I let her go."

"That idea failed. What about the advice I gave you? To let her see you and at least try to be her friend?" He shook his head. "That's so unfair, Stevie…"

"I can't handle that! I can't look her in the face and pretend that I don't still think about her every second of every day. It won't help anything and the past few months would have been painful for nothing. She's fine. Just wait until she drops that baby and her hormones are okay and she's back on her meds properly. She'll be fucking delighted that I'm out of her life." His hands were shaking furiously just thinking about having to hurt her for no good reason. He tried to distract them by finally reaching for his gifts. He opened an album, and it was photos that Stacie had printed out and arranged of Cheerio at doctor visits, her maternity journey, belly growth, the copies of her ultrasounds… He flipped through the pages, sniffling. _Why the hell was Stacie like this? Why couldn't she understand what he was trying to do? Why couldn't either of them understand?_ He shut it with a slam and shoved it away. "This doesn't help anyone!"

She ripped open the next present and it was an empty photo frame with _Daddy and Me_ on it. He shoved it away too. She opened the next and he slapped it from her hands it was something called a 'name announcement.' It was a collectible handkerchief with the name Stefan Robinson Charming Evans. "STOP IT!" He snapped.

"Stefan Robinson Charming Evans," she said. "Can't just think of him as this abstract with an impersonal name anymore!" She snapped right back. "He's your son. He's an Evans. He'll be in the world, in less than a month and I can't wait to meet him and I can't believe that you don't care whether or not you do!"

"Fuck you, Stacie! Fuck you! You have NO IDEA how hard this has been." HE rubbed his eyes, but he was seeing red. "I'm protecting him. You think I want him like this, like you, coming in here to see me for the rest of my life?" He got up from the table, snatching all of his things with him, "Happy fucking birthday!" He told her, jerked the handkerchief from her hands. He cried onto it as he stormed away. "Don't come back here until you can respect my feelings," he said.

"Fuck your feelings!" She called at him. He rolled his eyes, shook his head and kept going. And, she wasn't planning on coming back when she collected the wrapping paper and tossed it out on her way to the door.

.

On April 18th, whenever she rode with Cheerio to the hospital, with Jake driving, she still planned on not seeing or speaking to her brother. He was just being too ridiculous and she couldn't abide it. The hours that were spent from noon until a little past Midnight, when Cowboy finally decided that his time had come were sensitive ones. Cheerio cried for Stevie so many times and really broke down about it - the fact that she had to do this alone, after he'd promised _promised_ that they were in this together, the fact that she didn't know what Cowboy was gonna think or feel about it, "What if he thinks I made Cornflake stay away? What if he hates me for it, when I wanted it SO BAD?"

"Hey, Honey… Your boyfriend is probably not feeling good about this," Stacie said.

"That motherfucker ain't my boyfriend!" She squealed.

"I'm not gonna take offense to the tone of that statement," Jake said.

"You're probably as much of a fucking jerk! Everybody with a dick IS a dick!" She fussed. Stacie had never heard her use so much language. She sounded like STEVIE! But, she was in pain, on multiple levels. For hours. Jesus. Stacie didn't know if she wanted to do this mess! Definitely not anytime soon. Jake never wanted any of his own, between his messed up relationship with his father, this poor fatherless kid, and the whole painful journey of a woman to bring another kid into the hellhole he called the world.

One of them was on either side of her, holding her hand and staying out of the way. Tanisha was at work and couldn't make it. Dwight was at the hospital, but Cheerio had literally thrown things at him and blamed him for being such a "shit father" that Cornflake wanted to end the "shit cycle," "BUT SPOILER ALERT, decided it AFTER popping this pain seeking demon inside of me!" Then, she had a huge crying spell, apologizing to Cowboy for calling him names… So, Dwight waited outside.

Whenever Cheerio was in the thick of it, Jake was singing softly, to try to calm his nerves and hers. Meanwhile, Stacie was looking her in her eyes and holding her, helping her to breathe and saying, "I've got you, Babe. We've got this, okay? I'm here. We're gonna do it. Just think about our baby, Love. You've got it, my darling. It's gonna be okay…" And Cheerio really needed those sweet words of encouragement and affirmations. It helped her so much.

At 12:19 am, she heard his cries, and she thought her heart was exploding. Jake and Stacie smiled and squeezed each other's hands. Stacie leaned her own sweaty forehead against Cheerio's face and held her as the nurse presented him to them. When he was cradled against his mother's chest, she sighed and smiled and said, "Oh, my God… Everybody was right. Everybody that said it was worth it. I feel sorry for Cornflake. He's missed out on one of the most important things that will probably ever happen to his podunk ass."

Jake fought a laugh and moved the blanket a little bit to peek. "Let me guess… He lookes like his dad?"

Stacie nodded, crying, "He looks like someone brought our baby pictures to life. Except for the curly little hairs."

"No. He looks like _Stefan._ He looks like _Cowboy._ He looks like my baby, my son, my world. He looks like my reason." She kissed him on the forehead.


	31. And the Reason Is You

**And the Reason is You**

The last couple of months of school, Cheerio had all of her syllabus information for assignments and basically handled school in the same way that she had whenever she was in the institution. For that reason only, she was kind of grateful for having already experienced something like that. Spending time during the day reading and using the baby as a weight had her getting her weight down pretty quickly. Her hips were wider now, though and her breasts were the biggest that they had ever been in her life. She did post labor photo shoots with Stacie in Dwight's house. Stacie put flowers all around her and she dressed Cowboy up as a little cowboy.

She took photos at 1 week, 2 weeks, 3 weeks and one month. Cheerio got smaller and Cowboy got bigger. Then, he was 6 weeks old and old enough to get out into the world. Stacie began recording as they came into Pieces of Mercy. She wanted to capture every single moment of gushing over him that he was going to get. The first person that they saw was Becky.

"Oh my Gosh, Cheerio! He. Is. Adorable. Usually, I think babies are ugly and just look like lumps of human flesh, burping and pooping. But, this one is honestly cute!"

"Okay…" Cheerio said nervously. Becky was always brutally honest, so she wasn't sure why she thought that the woman would hold back on her baby.

"I'm gonna have to talk to Darrell about busting one of those into me!"

"Okay!" Cheerio said and covered Cowboy's ears, like he could even understand what Becky had said.

"My nephew is here? WHAT? Nobody told me to expect him! I've got dog all over me!" She heard Mercedes complain.

"Awww… I'm sorry Miss Jones," Cheerio said.

Mercedes laughed and said, "Girl, you know that I'm messing with you. We're going to stop by Papa Dwight's tonight so that he can finally meet him. But, I'm about to go shower and come back so I can love on him right now. And when I get back, you'd better just be calling me Mercedes!" She went to the upstairs apartment and the other ladies crowded Cheerio and Cowboy. Stacie was bragging on the different accomplishments of the baby, such as his weight gain, his sleep schedule, etc.

"Girl, are YOU the babydaddy?" Santana asked her.

"I'm definitely Daddy in the middle of the night," Stacie said.

Santana smirked, "Wanky."

"No! I meant…" Stacie laughed. "I actually am the one that gets up and changes diapers and puts him on the titty."

"Do you get some titty as payment?" Santana asked.

"I don't need payment. This is my family!"

Cheerio said, "Stacie knows full well that if she wants some titty, she could have some titty. Shoot, I haven't gotten any in like five months and just look at her. She looks just like…" Her face and mood fell. Stacie stopped recording and put her phone away. Cheerio was getting ready to cry. Stacie knew her "about to cry" face.

She wrapped her hands around her waist and asked, "How about I take him for a bit?"

"Yeah, I'ma go to the bathroom." Cheerio handed him over and sped off.

Santana shook her head and commented, "He really fucked with that girl's life." Stacie made a face and Santana quickly said, "But, I know that's your family, so even though I'll never fuck with him like that, I'll shut up about his fuvkboy ways."

"No, you're right. He should have just left her be if he wasn't going to follow through with things, but I know my brother. I can't say why he's treating her how he's been treating her, but I know that he loves her. Honestly, our family was so messed up, you know? Stevie's decisions are definitely his fault, but it's like… he didn't have too many choices. I'm not defending him! I'm so mad at him for how he's done her and Cowboy, but… he's just stupid about it. Not evil. He's not meaning to hurt them." Cowboy was gurgling and she cuddled him closely. "And, until he's ready and able to, well, this boy's gonna have two parents and a village, regardless. That's a vow from me, on my good name."

"But… your name is Evans too, right?" Brittany asked, in all seriousness. The other ladies around Stacie tried not to laugh.

.

Stevie went to the counter to sign his phone out and check his messages. He hadn't heard from Stacie in weeks, but saw that she had sent him a video. He was so excited to hear from her that he didn't even consider what it might be. He just played it, and there they were. They were beautiful. Cheerio had her hair in goddess locs as to not have to fuss with it much around the time of her labor. Then, he saw his son… It was the first time for him! His first time wasn't supposed to be like this… He sat down on the floor and looked through several photos and videos from his sister.

She had chronicled the pregnancy, when Cheerio went into labor, Cowboy's birth, Cheerio's weight loss, her finishing up her junior year of school and starting summer vacation. Stevie had been having an entire emotional journey when Sister Mary Constance came up and asked, "Do I need to be concerned, Stevie?" He didn't seem to have heard her address him. "Son, if I sit down on this floor, it might be hard for me to get up…"

He stood up and showed her a video of Cowboy feeding. "My son's first meal…" He was holding back tears. "He's now nine weeks old and I've never even seen him. These images are the first look... I haven't seen her in person in months. She looks different. I've never seen her look this vibrant and confident. He looks so happy without all my shit. He looks healthy. He looks like he's got a good future ahead."

"He's beautiful, but can you handle these types of files in your phone?"

"Yes!" He held his phone to his heart. "I can handle them."

"Okay. Because you had the nurse worried."

"I'm sorry." He saluted her, "Nun PMC…" He headed to his room and spent the entire phone privilege time he had looking at his estranged family. Whenever he got to the video of Cheerio presenting Cowboy to the ladies of POM, and that last moment before Stacie stopped recording, Cheerio was about to cry… he whimpered. Her walls came down and he had a chance to see what the other photos wasn't collecting… what was really happening inside of her.

.

Jake and Cheerio were shopping together. She got her WIC around the time when the Puckermans got their food stamps, so he would be her ride for such trips.

She recently had gotten information that the institution wanted to settle out of court, but she was unsure about how this worked when it was her parents who had initially pressed the charges and she wasn't currently in their care. So, she spent days back and forth on phone calls with the lawyers from the institution and her parents' lawyers before she realized that she had a child advocate lawyer of her own who somehow hadn't had her current contact information.

This brought about another issue though - the fact that she was on her own and had been that way for months. She was scared that maybe she might be forced into a home or worse, another institution. But, her lawyer assured her that it probably wouldn't be an issue. Just in case, Sam had gotten his lawyer to contact hers to make sure everything was copacetic.

Jake and Cheerio were laughing, talking and shopping when she received a message from Stacie: _Hey, Babe! Going to see Stevie for 4th of July. You wanna come?_

"Girl, whet?" She rolled her eyes, "You know, Stacie just asked me if I wanna go try to see Cornflake on the 4th of July? Why would I want to do that when he basically told me to go to hell?"

Jake squinted his eyes and wondered, "Why have I been under the impression that he broke things off in a 'it's not you, it's me' type situation?"

"That's what he tried to lie and say. But, if it was really him, it's MY move to get him out of my life. Who _actually_ ever breaks up with other people for their own good? The audacity, the lies, the fallacy. I should go visit him JUST to show him how good I am on not being with him, but I don't want him to get the wrong idea and think that I still love him or something."

She texted back: _Girl, nah. Lol._

Stacie screenshot it and sent it to Stevie.

…Now, Stevie was unsure of just what his twin was up to lately, taunting him this way… he hadn't asked to see Cheerio. He wouldn't have had the nerve. After the way that he treated her, he knew that she would never agree to that even if he did ask. He'd quite literally have to beg her. And he wasn't going to do that. They would just wind up back in their awful situation.

But, after that, he did stalk her social media. She was at cheerleader camp with the baby and posted "Coach Dystria is THE BEST, letting me attend camp before I'm even able to tryout just to give me a fair shot after dropping this full time human!"

She would have Cowboy in a papoose sack while walking through routine steps and jotting down cheers and moves. Whenever she practiced, she'd hand Cowboy off to some half breed looking dude that Stevie surmised was Jake (and found out from comments that he was).

However, not only did neither of their pages show that they were in a relationship with each other, but Jake's had that he was in a relationship with someone else. BUT… Jake's profile photo was of himself, Cheerio and Cowboy. Stevie almost threw his phone when he saw that, but knew he'd lose phone privileges forever. He could only guess that self control meant growth.

.

Stevie didn't follow Cheerio on social media, because he didn't want her to know that he was paying attention to her. But, in the comments of a selfie post of herself with a message about going for her dreams and trying out for the cheerleading squad, he saw Coach Dystria tagged to it. The woman said, "You are the hardest working cheerleader that I have ever taken under my wing. You're special. You're talented. I wish you all the best, but I'm sure you'll succeed. Good luck my Cheerio!"

Stevie was irritated. Apparently, Candy Dystria was still at the school, and still had access to Cheerio. He felt protective, suddenly, and commented, "I know that you'll do well. Good luck, Captain. (You'll be the captain of that team)." He commented just so that Candy could see that he was there and to watch her fucking step.

He knew that woman HAD to know who Cheerio was and who she was to him, but she still commented, "Stevie Evans? Small world! You're right, though. She could easily be captain and should definitely go for it."

Cheerio commented, "Talk to you later, Coach!" But completely ignored Stevie.

.

Cheerio braced her knee, tied up her hair and tried out for the cheer squad with the routine that she and Mira had worked on for so long when Mira was referred to as Myron. She tried to look her friend up whenever she could, but Mira was done with her. She blamed Cheerio for a really bad blemish on her family name, her uncle's life's work, and the institution and all the patients that had to uproot and settle some place new when it shut down. Still, Cheerio dedicated her tryout to her friend Mira and her precious baby boy.

Jake had Cowboy on his lap as he recorded her tryout routine for her channel, _Hello, Cheerio!_ It had been years since she posted to that channel and this would be the first video, if she made the team…

Stevie discovered that there was a new video on her channel whenever he turned on his phone at his allotted time. _Say Hello to the Captain!_ He watched her performance with damp, proud eyes and then her celebration, then her rush to the person recording and heard this male voice say, "Mommy made Captain of the Cheerios, Cowboy!" He snarled. It was Jake again. It had to be. No wonder Stacie thought that they were together. They practically were! And why was that motherfucker always with _his_ son? _Why the fuck else? Because you left him fatherless and left her to fend for herself and him alone…_

Stevie called Stacie and she wasn't able to answer, so he left a voicemail, "Hey. I know you might still be mad at me. I'm mad at me, too. I don't know what I'm doing or what I'm gonna do, but I miss my… I miss her, Stace." He started crying. "I know that I don't deserve to see her or speak to her again, but… just wish her well for me. I tried, but she didn't pay any attention to me. I won't try to be her man or anything like that. I just…" He hung up.

.

The school year was right around the corner whenever Stacie finally convinced Cheerio to see Stevie. She figured that they should see each other first, so she was going to wait with Cowboy while Cheerio went in.

Much like her mother, Cheerio wanted to show this boy that she was high and mighty. She didn't have what Rhadja had and she didn't even consciously know that Rhadja did it like that. But, sometimes you just pick up characteristics when you fall from the tree. It was still hot enough to show skin. She had lost all of her baby weight and slimmed and tightened things up a lot. She spent the night before pampering herself from head to toe to try to handle the stress of this meeting, and was rewarded with glorious skin and hair for it.

She wore her hair in an updo to show off her neck, because Stevie loved her neck and she wanted him to have to eat his heart out. She wore her Sweet 16 heart necklace, a pink lace tank top and pink and green floral shorts with lace up sandals. Her manicure and pedicure was fresh and made her fingers and toes beautiful. She had on a few toe rings, anklets, bangle bracelets and a dangling pair of earrings with sparkles. She was somehow casual and still appeared to be dressed up, kinda. Stevie couldn't explain it, but he couldn't look away either. And, she wasn't being shy… nor was she being nice.

She came in, sat down and stared at him like this was the most boring portion of her day. But, the longer they sat in silence, staring at each other, the more uneasy she became. How dare he let her go through the past few months to just suddenly want to see her and talk to her? After all of the times she wanted to see and talk to him but COULDN'T, because he had forced her away! "Why am I here?" she finally asked, annoyed.

"Stacie thought that it would be good if we finally talked again."

"Oh? Stacie did? Okay. Well, if you don't want me here, I'm out." She pushed her chair back to get up and was good and ready to storm out, but he begged her not to.

"Please! I didn't mean it that way. I only meant that Stacie has been helping me to realize that I probably should face you. Now that you're… That the both of you are safe, I don't feel as bad about you having to see me here." She folded her arms. He _still_ hadn't said what she needed to hear. "I'm sorry," he said. She kept her arms folded, but sat back down. She didn't pull her chair back in, but he was relieved that she seemed open to his apology. "I just wanted the two of you to have whatever you possibly could, and look at you now! You're the captain of the cheerleading squad of dreams, and a much better mother than you could have been had I been around to hold you back."

Now, she was pissed. She scoffed, then chuckled. Then, she stopped, unfolded her arms and set her palms on the table, to try to ensure that she held herself together. "I am only going to say this one more time, and then I _never_ want to have to have this conversation again. I don't want to hear it if you disagree, and I'm not going to agree to disagree. I'll say my piece about it, and you'll simply shut up and listen. Then, we can move on to the next subject. These. Are. The. Facts. You had no way of knowing what condition I would be in if you had been available to me while I was going through everything. But, I have an idea of what _did_ happen to me and how I felt. I was abandoned when my own body wasn't the one that I had been used to for 16 years." She fought off tears. "My body changed, my home changed _twice._ I went from the institution, to my parents, to the streets. Moving is a huge stressor for people. I had to move, then I became _homeless._ I was homeless with hormones, and you didn't even ask about me. Did you even wonder how it was going? Did it even matter that I had to sleep on the couches of complete strangers and your known racist ass family? I had to learn to make friends so that I could have basic necessities and still not be able to fully trust them because I had no history with any of them and the only people that I did have any history with… betrayed and abandoned me when I needed a support system. You helped me feel suicidal again. You made me think about giving up on myself and on Cowboy. I don't know what would have happened if you would have been there, but what did happen was by the grace of God, the strangers did right by me while my family didn't."

Now she was crying, "You were supposed to be my family, and you turned on me. You might as well had spit in my face and nothing you can say will make me feel like that shit was ever for my benefit. It was for your benefit. It was for you to feel better. It was some bitchass shit and that's that. So, moving right along…" She wiped her eyes with her fingertips and mumbled, "As long as it took me to make this eye makeup perfect. Damn you, Cornflake!"

He nodded his head, "I wish that I had never did that to you. And yes, I did care. I wondered. It mattered. You matter. You and Cowboy are all that I've thought about since I got to this place. It killed me to not be there for you.. Seeing you cozy up with that Jake guy and…"

"What do you mean? When did you 'see me' doing anything? Oh… You were stalking my social media, weren't you?"

"Stacie brought me photos of you and Cowboy and then I had to see more!"

"You don't get to push me away and hold on tightly. I'm gonna block you…"

She pulled out her phone to do just that and he reached out and grabbed her wrist, "Don't… Please. I… Don't want that. I want… Can we please work something out?"

"I don't think that you should be able to see him until I'm more comfortable with you. I don't trust you. I don't trust that you'll hold up whatever we work out.I would have to see you and talk to you a lot more to trust you with my son."

"Your… Okay." He didn't want to argue. "I will agree to whatever you want me to in order to get back into your good graces. What would you have me do?"

"What _can_ you do?" She asked.

"I can be a friend. A real friend. I'll be here for you…" She scoffed and rolled her eyes. "What do you want me to do? Put it in writing?" He wondered. But, that wasn't a bad idea. She skipped it, though. They exchanged phone numbers and schedules, but she wasn't ready for him to see Cowboy yet.

But, they started talking a lot. It was the high point of his night. After a few weeks they were "friends" again and she planned for him to see Cowboy at the start of the school year for her. It was her senior year and she was the Cheerios captain. Maybe she and Cornflake would never be a family or be in love again, but she felt like at least she might have her friend back.

.

Terri DelMonico wasn't extremely fond of the things that had taken place within her life, but keeping a low profile took some of the sting away… not a lot. But, at least, she was able to avoid being recognized and facing scrutiny and discrimination, to a certain degree. Contacts within the Foundation had distanced themselves from her, unsure if she really knew about her husband's DNA scandal. Preston's lawyers had taken her child away, as a condition of the contract he made to donate his sperm to her that in the event that she could not fully care for the infant, the infant would be placed in the custody of a guardian of his choosing. That guardian was her free and living nephew, Max.

As long as Max had Rose, Terri was confident that Rose was safe. Max cared about family above all. Family and Foundation. The drawback was that she wasn't able to see her daughter, at all. Max felt that her deceptive husband had been the reason that his brothers were gone. Sure, Stevie Evans' betrayal helped, but without Will's guidance, they would have been stationed differently! And, he believed that she knew that, but kept them beneath their station to avoid having Kendra's boys be above her heirs in the Schuester family.

She'd always thought she was better than them, to Max. She always made it be known that _she_ was the reason that Kendra had status in the Foundation. That _she_ was the reason that Kendra wasn't just some soldier breeding heifer. That _she_ was the reason that the Giardis were well taken care of after Phil was sent away (despite the fact that Will was also the reason that Phil was sent away!) Max had always resented his Aunt Terri for how she looked down her nose upon the Giardi household. He thought it was because she felt privileged that a Schuester had chosen her, that she had all the makings of a Foundation wife, when all Kendra seemed to be good for was being a soldier's old lady… But, whenever he found out the truth - that the triplets had been Will's successors all along? Well… Terri was dead to him, at that point.

His aunt had made he and his brothers grow up as the children of a beggar, keeping his mother in a station that she had to get handouts from her baby sister to survive, and only taking care of her nephews, or rather her brother-in-laws, as though an act of charity. She had treated them better than other "breeding deposits" that Preston had made, but they weren't even allowed to know their true lineage, because "an actual Schuester wife should bare the children to carry the Schuester name and Schuester legacy." Well, she might have the name and had birthed the child, but Rose was Max's now.

He could have easily pretended that she was his daughter, but he didn't want any trouble if a health issue came up, so he stuck with the truth that she was his cousin, because legally, she was, though biologically, she was his sister - he didn't know how he would ever really explain that to her, but probably in a "royal family" sort of way. She was only 2, anyway, so it wasn't like he had to do it any time soon.

He had just put her down for the night whenever he heard a knock on his door and went to answer it. It was Candy Dystria. "Hey… What are you doing here?" He wondered.

"I wanted to update you on a couple of things. First, I spoke with your aunt Terri today. She asked me to meet her for lunch, then tried to convince me to get her a job in the high school that I have a championship cheerleading squad at."

"Terri wants to work with teenagers? What? Is she gonna become a breeder or a recruiter?"

"Honestly, I think it has to do with Cheri Robinson," Candy said. She noticed Max's ears perk up and she nodded, "Yeah, that's the next thing that I wanted to talk to you about. Remember when I told you that she confided in me that she and her baby's dad had not been on speaking terms? That's changed."

"Really?" He chuckled and shook his head.

"He commented on a post that I was tagged in, I guess to try to push his weight, and I asked her how she knew him. She wasn't completely honest about it. She only said that she knew him from the institution she was in and that she really didn't want to discuss it. She said that they hadn't talked in months and that it was surprising to her to see him comment. But, a few weeks later, she came back and told me that she had gone to visit him and that they were talking on the phone whenever he has phone privileges."

"I need her number, so that I can look into her records and get his. The Evanses keep a pretty tight leash on information, so I haven't been able to find any of theirs so far." She nodded and pulled out her phone to fetch the number. "Has he seen the baby?"

"I don't think that he has, but I've suggested the daycare that you bring Rose to, to her, for when the school year starts. She's an honor roll student, leading an extracurricular activity and battling mental health issues. It didn't take much for me to convince her that daycare might be the only kind of structure her kid gets while she does all of that and his family does whatever things that they have going on."

"Good thinking," he said and took the information he needed from her phone.

"So…?" She wondered. He looked at her, confused. "Jamie?" She said.

"Oh, right!" He laughed a little and pulled up the video on his phone. He's going to be the best of the bunch. I can already see it." He handed her the phone and she was able to watch a previously edited video of some of his points from the facility that Preston had him in. He looked like he was doing pretty well. Whenever she couldn't come through with something, Max would send her clips of him being disciplined to motivate her, so she lived for these tiny glimpses of one of her sons being okay. She hadn't planned on giving Jamie to the program, but it was Preston Schuester who had personally come to her to collect him! How could she say no? But, her boy was doing just fine, and Max would never lie and tell her that he was a good trainee, if he wasn't. She handed the phone back and said, "Thank you."

"You earned it," he said. "By the way, I'll speak with someone about the Terri situation. We'll see what we can do." She nodded her head and left.

.

The school year started out wonderfully. Cowboy's daycare was affordable for her and she felt comfortable _enough_ with the staff. Cheerio and the Cheerios had successful practices. She was going to free kids counseling sessions with Stacie's lil' wannabe boo, Joe at the community center, and Miss Jones worked around her schedule to let her still have a job, despite the fact that she barely had any hours she could work. Now, did she have a man? No. Did she have a social life? No. Was she loving her life though? It exceeded her damn dreams. All that might make it better was if Stevie wanted her back. She felt so stupid for feeling that way that there was no way that she would ever admit it out loud, but if he repented and asked, she'd forgive and take him back, no question. Ugh. _Girl, you need a distraction!_

Jake was single these days. He had gotten fired from the country club for "fraternizing with the relatives of guests," which Cheerio counted as, since he met her via the country club. She had a feeling that her mother was responsible for that. But, that had been so much of the Puckermans' bills that she felt tremendous guilt over it. So, whenever she got her settlement check, she cut off a piece for them, for all their help. Jake tried to refuse it, so she simply set the amount aside and pulled from it for stuff like gas money when he took her places, his portion when she treated him to stuff, the tip that she gave his mom when they stopped into the diner. They was gon' take this little money that she wanted to give them! She and Jake were a little bit cozier than before, but she made sure never to step over any lines. She was a 17 year old single mother. It seemed distasteful to her to be the one to make a move. So, they were friends who looked like something else.

She gave Stacie rent portions, which was helpful, even if Stacie didn't want to take money from her most of the time, too. It was just… nice to be able to afford anything again. She sat on most of it, but she definitely at least had to make sure that she was able to get comfortable socks for the upcoming season.

Everything was going great, but then she began getting weird phone calls. At first, it was benign enough. Somebody had gotten her phone number and obviously had thought it would be funny to prank her. It sounded like kids, so she simply guessed it was some prepubescent or borderline freshman tweens. It was stuff like, "Heard you like white boys and you let one knock you up!" Lol. Whatevs. But, whenever it got around to someone saying something about Cowboy and casually mentioning personal information about her, she was shaken up and went to Dwight about it, because that was basically her adult. She didn't know who else was old enough and responsible enough to bring things to.

He got people to investigate the calls and got her a number change. Stevie was curious about the number change, but very weird about it, too. He didn't want to intrude when they were just getting on good terms, but he was worried. This happened a few more times before he straight out asked, "What's up with the changing your phone number so much? Is this one of your paranoid delusions gnawing at you since your meds have had to be modified for you to breastfeed?"

"Yeah," she said. "I get these prank calls and just feel better whenever I don't have to."

"Prank calls like what?"

"Like.. about my sex life and stuff."

"You… have a sex life?" He asked, more worried about _that_ than he probably should have been considering that she was speaking about being harrassed.

"Not since Cowboy, but you know that whenever people see a pregnant teen or a teen with a kid, they feel it their duty to climb into her vagina and make space for themselves in it." He sighed, but she knew he was worried. "Hey. It's all good. I got friends and family surrounding me and I'll be okay."

"You… have family?" He was shocked and worried about this too!Had she made amends with her mom? Had she become dependent on her parents again? How would they react to knowing that he didn't hold up his part of the deal to stay away from her?

"Uh, that's what your dad and sister always says. But, you're right. We're not really. But, they are Cowboy's family, so, you know…" he sighed again, unsure if _his_ family was any better than _her_ family. They sure the fuck weren't when he lived with them. "You need to stop worrying, Dude. That's just gonna make me worry more!"

"I'm sorry. I just… You're my best friend, you know? I love you."

Her heart almost jumped out of her chest, but she casually said, "Considering our history, Cornflake… I don't know if I can be the kind of friends that use the L word. So, just let's not do that again, please."

"Whatever you want."

She wanted to change the subject, so she moved on to, "Oh guess what? I finally arranged my community first event for the Cheerios! I got with Miss Jones and Big Brotha Tinsley about us volunteering help for the National Fire Prevention Week thingy."

"Miss Jones? I'll bet she hates you calling her that," he said. "Girl, we family! Call me Mercy, Babydoll, at LEAST Mercedes or something! We don't call each other no last names in family!" He tried to imitate Mercedes, but truth be told probably sounded a little more like Nun PMC, and Cheerio definitely snorted on the other end of the phone, so mission accomplished.

"Umm… I will FULLY need you to stop using the same generic sassy black woman voice for every black woman you imitate, as a term of our friendship. Is that how you'd imitate my mom?"

He winced at the mention of _her,_ but fell in step pretty quickly with a demonic lady voice, "No… I would use this one…" Now, she cackled and he couldn't believe that they were at this point again. Talking, laughing. Did he wish that they were more? Of course! Would he always want and love her? Without a doubt. But, he was happy just to have her back, even if it was only like this.

 ** _A/N:_** _JSYK, This is just about where we pick up with them in DYSWES, SO we'll be delving into the details of how they were developing in that story in upcoming chapters of this one._


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